The Ivy Covered Burial Ground: Magic Number Down to Three

Monday, September 12, 2016

Magic Number Down to Three

I have to confess that the success of this team is a little frightening for old-line Cubs fans like myself. Monday's game was like watching a highlight reel. The only disappointment was seeing Hendricks lose the no-hitter in the bottom of the ninth. A tough break for sure. On that subject, I do not know why - and I was not at the game, but just watching on TV - I just felt that Hendricks had special stuff more or less from the beginning. As I have said, watching this team day in and day out just makes you wonder at how good they are and how good they might become. Scary stuff.

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A Manifesto of Sorts

Somehow I have been conditioned to be a Cubs fan. I grew up with the profound conviction that it was nearly impossible or at least a feat of some exceptional athletic prowess to throw a baseball accurately from third base or the hole at shortstop to first base. This odd belief was fostered no doubt by the great fuss Jack Brickhouse made when a Cub infielder actually succeeded in doing so and from the observation of Handsome Ransom Jackson and Roy Smalley, Cubs stalwarts of the era, who rarely succeeded in that endeavor. It was only when I began playing the game in earnest in sandlots and little league that I came to realize it was really not all that hard to do.

Another legacy of my youth was the observation fostered by my father, a lifelong fan, that every Cubs executive who followed William Veeck, Sr., Bill Veeck's father, was an utter nitwit, as were most of the managers they hired. In this opinion, he was not far from the truth, and I cherish it as one of the few useful bits of knowledge he passed on to me.

Anyway, like all fans, I can dream. And, I suppose, rant.

By the way, I owe the title of this blog a line in the Steve Goodman song, "Dying Cubs Fan's Last Request."