The Chicago Cubs are not my team, but they don’t need to be my team for me to understand and recognize the significance of them winning the World Series for the first time in 108 years. Last night’s game was about as epic as a baseball game could possibly get, and make no mistake, it most certainly was a battle worthy of the two deserving best teams in Major League Baseball in 2016; seven games, rain delays, scoring on both teams’ supposed untouchable relievers, and extra innings to decide a winner, it was practically a microcosm of an entire season in a single game.
Last night’s game amazing to me in so many ways. So rarely does an odds-on favorite prior to the start of a season actually end up going all the way, often times falling prey to the hype, injuries, the rise of an upstart, the hot September team, or the San Francisco Giants. Not only were the Cubs the proverbial hype machine all the way back in February before Spring Training even began, they marched through the season with dominance, almost winning in defiance of the monumental hype outlets like ESPN heaped upon them on practically a daily basis, winning 100+ games and marching into the playoffs with little doubt that they belonged.
Where they ended the obnoxious curse of the San Francisco Giants and the even-numbered year, to which at this point I was just grateful for that, and rooted for the Cubs out of gratitude and the fact that I was meh on the idea of the Cleveland Indians or Toronto Blue Jays winning a World Series alternatively.
It’s like I know a little bit about baseball or something, when just about every single concern I previously expressed about Joe Maddon’s pitching management came to haunt the Cubs last night, and there’s little I like more than being right about things. But in spite of Maddon’s over-managing and over-meddling with pitching changes that almost sunk the Cubs in tragic fashion, his players simply wanted it more, and in an amazing display of genuine curse-breaking, overcame an unexpected choke job when momentum was clearly on the side of the Indians.
But seriously, all is forgiven by winning, but Joe Maddon managed that game worse than the presidential candidate you’re not going to be voting for would theoretically manage the country. Pulling Kyle Hendricks for no reason than that he walked a guy because Sam Holbrook’s strike zone had epilepsy was a bad move, because Hendricks was pretty much cruising prior to the walk, and because he couldn’t finish the 5th inning, would be denied a chance at a win, despite having a 5-1 lead. Inserting Jon Lester into a game with baserunner was a bad move because Maddon specifically expressed his desire to not do such but did it anyway, and Lester responded by promptly allowing two runs to score because starting pitchers often give up runs and typically do not like coming out of the bullpen because they’re creatures of habit. And when Lester was finally beginning to settle down, Maddon pulled him in the 8th inning because Sam Holbrook’s strike zone still had epilepsy and a runner ultimately got on base, which was a bad move, because Aroldis Chapman was predictably tired after a day in which he unnecessarily pitched with a 7-1 lead, and ended up giving up three runs, culminating with the shocking home run to Rajai Davis of all people.
I like Joe Maddon, because I appreciate baseball personnel that think outside the box, are willing to challenge tradition and convention and aren’t afraid to do some unorthodox things, but there’s no denying that he over-managed the game last night, and almost to the point of defeat. Challenging the norm is one thing, but challenging the limits of the human body is a different matter, and both Maddon and Chapman thinking Chapman would be fine after as much taxation his arm had been put under was nearly a fatal fallacy.
Again, winning forgives all.
Thankfully, the rain delay was just what the Cubs needed, as it bought a little bit of time for them to take a breather, calm down, and remind themselves that the game was simply tied, and not yet lost.
Not going to lie, when I saw Michael Martinez step to the plate in the bottom of the 10th with two outs, a part of me felt really good, with the other part naturally pessimistically dreading the worst. When he slapped the ball to third and made the final out of the game, Martinez will forever be immortalized in Cubs lore as the final out of the curse-breaking World Series, but I’ll always remember Michael Martinez as the player I had to share a public bathroom with in Potomac, because the Pfitz apparently didn’t have a locker room bathroom for the players.
Speaking of immortalization, Theo Epstein might now be remembered as the greatest general manager in baseball history. The Ivy League Zack Morris lookalike was the man who generally managed the Red Sox to their first championship in 84 years decided that Boston wasn’t difficult enough, and jumped ship to Chicago where he just generally managed the Cubs to their first championship in 108 years. Not bad for a guy that many expected to fail, because he didn’t play or was perceived as kind of a nerd in a culture of good old baseball boys tradition.
The opposite of immortalization would have to be none other than Jason Heyward, the former Brave whom I still like as a human being, but was undoubtedly one of the biggest $184 million dollar busts in history. Clearly, I missed every game where Heyward actually got a hit, because it was pretty much three straight games that I watched in which Heyward go 0-4 or 0-5. Salvation is always the next plate appearance, and I was most certainly rooting for Heyward to pull through, but he simply kept failing. His speeches and outfield defense can only protect him for so long, as can the fan equity built from being part of such a monumental championship squad, but if he continues to perform like he did in 2016 throughout the life of his 8-year contract, he’ll probably be subject to some boos when the good times start to wear off.
But saving the best for last, would be David Ross, the primary reason why I rooted for the Cubs at all. It’s extremely rare when I can decide on a horse at the start of the season, and then they actually win it all; haphazard in the fact that it was the Cubs. But that’s how much I appreciate David Ross. He’s no Ripken, Jeter, Chipper, Ortiz or Rivera, and was never going to get the adulation, standing ovations and gifts from every team in the league like they did, but I wanted to see him go out on top more than any of them. And with a home run in game 7 of the World Series, en route to the curse-breaking championship, it’s safe to say that Ross most certainly walks away from the game of baseball as a true king, and I could not be any happier for the man.
Make no mistake though, I am happy for the Cubs, and all their fans. I like witnessing history, even if it’s not for my teams. And it’s pretty incredible to think that with a 108 year championship drought, there have probably been countless lifetimes that have come and gone where less-fortunate Cubs fans have lived and died, waiting for a Cubs championship and not getting one. To put in perspective, two World Wars and countless U.S. presidents have come and gone in the time it took for the Cubs to win.
When Davis homered, and suddenly momentum was on the side of the Indians, I couldn’t help but think of the Cubs inevitable curse-induced collapse, and that there would undoubtedly be several suicides that would take place in the country. But since the Cubs held strong and ultimately won, I wonder how many babies will be born come this July, alternatively?
Whenever I watch an oft-maligned team break through and reach the top of the mountain, I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at what it must feel like to be a part of the party, to be a fan of those teams. At currently 21 years since 1995, the Braves could hardly be considered to be remotely close to the realm of the Red Sox, the Cubs or the Indians, and frankly I’ve begun to think the Braves are kind of lame throughout the last few years, due to my malcontent with the organization’s greed and phony transparency. And I don’t know if Virginia Tech is ever going to win a National Championship in the ultra-competitive and imbalanced college football scene. So as much as I’d love to be part of a party in which a team I associate with wins a championship, it seems dubious to whether or not I’ll get to. And even if they did, would they have the fanaticism or conglomeration of fans in Cleveland and Chicago? I can’t really believe they would.
No matter, this isn’t about me or the teams that I favor. The Cubs breaking through, and shattering the drought in an epic World Series, with David Ross walking away from the game a hero and a winner was all I was hoping for last night, and the fact that both were delivered is good enough for me. Even if it’s not my team, I can be happy for the Cubs, David Ross, and all their fans. It was a truly great World Series.
