Saturday Spitballin’ with Andy: Six Flags’ New Ride–Being a Cubs Fan

It would make sense that the inaugural “Saturday Spitballin’ with Andy” post would be about the inaugural Cubs World Series of my lifetime. I have loved the Cubs ever since I entered this world. I’ve loved them through the Sammy Sosa, Carlos Zambrano, Derek Lee days, and sadly through the Hee-Seop Choi, John Baker, and Carlos Marmol days (gross). I’ve seen them choke under pressure, and I’ve seen them not even have the opportunity to choke because of 100-loss seasons. And then a man named Theo Epstein joined our franchise and basically is bringing in a bunch of teenagers to build a dynasty. Now I can say I’ve been a fan of the Cubs through the Jon Lester, Jake Arietta, Anthony Rizzo, and Kris Bryant days. Even though us Cubs fans are famous for always saying “There’s always next year,” and I knew that one day we would take home that cool circle trophy with all the flags, I never knew I would experience what I experienced on the ever-so-early morning (approximately 1:00 AM) of November 3rd, 2016. We did it. It happened. We flew the ultimate “W.”

As you may have read in a previous post, I attended Game 1 of the 2016 World Series, and joined thousands of people to see the first World Series game the Cubs participated in since my grandma was 16. This was a dream come true. It was also an emotional wrecking ball. Speaking of which, I think I had a little Amish lady inside my stomach for an entire week, cause boy was it churnin’ more than it ever has. Even in Game 6 in the 9th, I had a brief period where I was relaxed because I felt like we had it won, and then I thought about Game 7 and out came the butterflies. But once I got to my friend’s for Game 7, I think the butterflies turned into pterodactyls. Since we started out literally at the beginning of the game with a lead, and played with a lead basically the entire game until the 8th inning, I was feeling confident, but still extremely nervous. I was pacing around, heart racing, sweating, but still had a smile on my face. Then, as everyone knows, the Indians’ little idol doll thing in their locker room brought them some magical Pedro Cerrano juju on Rajai Davis’ homerun off of Chappy. My heart sank, I became temporarily depressed, and then the rain delay happened. Frustration set in. Then Zo and Miggy knocked in a couple runs in the 10th. Pure joy set in. Then Davis knocked in another for the Tribe in the 10th. Fear set in. I swear Six Flags in Chicago needs to open a ride about the Cubs. Turns out you’re on it for 4 hours twisting and turning, crying a little bit, vomiting every now and then, your heart partially exploding, and then getting off and having all of your friends laughing at you for ever getting on in the first place. The life of a Cubs fan. But you know what? At the end of the day, I was able to experience pure joy at the end of a baseball season for the first time in my life. And my emotions were out of control. I mean come on, the last time the Cubs won the World Series Thomas Edison and Mark Twain were alive. And Babe Ruth probably hadn’t even had his first girlfriend yet ‘cause he was like 13 years old. Anyway, the Cubs won the World Series, my friends started cutting onions or I had a branch in my eye or something, and I don’t have to say wait until next year. Next year is now. And for some reason everyone keeps cutting onions around me when I watch videos of the now “Loveable Winners.”

Thoughts, Ideas or Comments Here

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