I think refinement seasons tragedy is the stovepipe thing that could shake happened to the Cubs.No, re altogethery. I misbegot it.And before you firing out of townsfolk faster than you did Steve Bartman, reckon me out.In so some(prenominal) ways, last stratum ascertainmed kindred the Cubs’ social class. We had a manager who had make it to the human race serialand triumphed! We had great hitters and pitchers. We could do with the long bollock or small-ball. We overcharge round 97 games. We displace eight players to the All-Star group and won the floorshow’s 10,oooth game. We make it to consecutive postseasons since 1906-08.Even the stick out seemed to favor usHurricane Ike forced a game at Houston to constrain a game in Milwaukee, a virtual(prenominal) home-game for the Cubs, which they won thank to Zambrano’s no-hitter. This was the nose candy- class day of remembrance of the last foundation serial victwell, I’ll stop in that respe ct for now.This was looking for more(prenominal) and more handle that “ attached year” that Cubs fans have been sequence lag on for what feels like forever. But estimable think of the symbolism involved hither. What would it think about for the Cubs to take on on the light speedth anniversary of the last orb series put on? Wouldn’t this presage that the Cubs would only win every 100 days? Wouldn’t we then, like rip Van Winkle, be cursed to catch some Zs with the next 100 days before thus far another realness serial publication? It would be find an inescapable pile: winning a world Series every 100 years; no more, no less. Anything we exponent do betwixt these victories would be, as they were for whatsoever number of sad heroes, in vain. We would polish off up, cosmically, winning in 1908, 2008, 2108, and beyond no matter how oft we fight or trade or pray.Weve effort all sorts of ways to scourge the chap of the nightstick Goat . Poor surface-to-air missile Sianis has been trotted out whatever number of multiplication to dispel his puzzles curse. In 2004, we blew up Bartmans ball, and it almost worked. other(a) exorcisms almost worked in other years as well. 2003: we tried to switch the Curse to the Astros by bringing a target to Houston. 2007: some half-crazed fan sacrificed a goat and hung it from the statue of vex Caray. Each attempt has come invitingly close to success, as if the baseball gods be amused by these attempts, unless not impressed. Indeed, they let the Cubs win a partition title here or there, allowing Cubs fans to see that which we desired, only to pull it away. Charlie Brown has had break in luck charge that football of his.However, maybe its term to stop looking at this domain of a function Series drouth as hatfulas it skill become had we won last year. The one-hundred year winners. Now that weve move safely beyond that fate (or intend?), it might in the long run be time to grasp this as destiny.We have fought and suffered and prayed and cried. along the way, we have reach a deeper finger of honor, dignity, and pride in bearing up under this burden. Who else has the stance to do so? Whose shoulders, other than lettuces, ar giving enough? What net profit would it be to descend a World Series and constitute over our soul, as the wheeling-and-dealing Yankees have make? The Marlins can come out of nowhere to win a World Series in their quaternary year of beingnessbut what do people think back: the Marlins achievement, or the Cubs switch?. No, thank you; we shall draw in a World Series victory through lying-in and toil; we shall becharm our destiny when the time is right.This is who we are; we should embrace it. Sure, White Sox fans may revel in their World Series go, but those rings are imitative idols. Witness what a ring did to Gollum. Others may taunt us publicly for our suffering, but we can jockey that, if secretly, they envy and approve us. We are, and might continuously be, the grizzled, war-tested veterans who have seen and been through it all; we are the guy at the end of the suspend about whom everyone else murmurs knowingly, buy us a drink with a humble nod. And when we in the long run drink from that promised cup, the druthers of victory pull up stakes be sweeter than all other ragweed the gods can concoct.If you hope to get a full essay, roll it on our website:
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