100 futile years, and I’m lovin’ it

I’ve got to get something off my chest. I can’t stand the Chicago Cubs.

Yup, those lovable losers — America’s favorite squad of perpetual disappointment — just don’t do it for me.

The Cubs are a virus.

For about six months every year, they infect your TV, your newspaper and all your favorite Web sites with the promise that this is their year. What basis do they have to make such a claim? Nothing tangible. Just the idea that the same collection of underachieving talent suddenly will put it all together — because eventually the Cubs have to win.

As Cubs fans said all year, “It’s gonna happen.”

Somehow this is enough evidence for the mainstream media. Just like a junkie addicted to his next fix, columnists around the country have a Cubs itch they have to scratch each season.

This year, Sports Illustrated’s lead baseball guy, Tom Verducci, said the Cubs would make it to the World Series and lose to the Detroit Tigers. And ESPN.com’s Gene Wojciechowski bombarded the nation with Cubs news and the premise that this could be their year.

Call me a traditionalist, but I’d like to think the teams that command the most media attention actually are consistently good.

And that’s just what the Chicago Cubs aren’t.

They’ve made it to 16 postseasons, starting in 1906, and compiled a series record of 3-14. The Cubs did manage to win two World Series — in 1907 and 1908.

Since then they’ve been one of the worst franchises in baseball. They lost 10 straight playoff series from 1910 to 1998 and had a stretch of 39 years without playing in October. To their credit, though, they’ve led or been near the league lead in woe-is-me stories and fabricated curses.

Now I know what you’re going to say. Those were the old Cubs — that’s all in the past. We’re now in a Golden Age of Cubs Baseball.

Point taken. For the first time since the 1930s, the Cubs have made the playoffs three times in a single decade — and they have two more seasons to set the franchise record!

What does it say about a team when three postseason appearances in a span of 10 seasons is worth bragging about?

And it’s not like the North Siders have proven anything in those three Octobers. On baseball’s brightest stage, Chicago’s wilted.

The Cubs collapsed in 2003 and failed to win a single game the past two years.

2008 was the worst. Chicago rolled into the playoffs with the NL’s best record and a matchup against a Los Angeles Dodgers squad that won only 84 games. It seemed like this really could be their year.

The media definitely made it seem that way. Every day online or on ESPN, there were stories about the Cubs and how poetic it would be to win a title exactly 100 years since their last. If only they had foreseen the obvious — the Cubs don’t have the cojones to perform when it counts.

Against the Dodgers, Chicago forgot how to hit, pitch and play defense.

Starting pitcher Ryan Dempster walked seven batters in Game One, and the next day the Cubbies committed four errors. By then the writing was on the wall, and Chicago ended its season without so much as a peep. They lost 3-1 in Los Angeles two days later to complete the sweep.

The media labeled it a collapse. I’d call it meeting expectations.

The Cubs are like that one guy in your family that continually disappoints you, but for some reason you’re a lot more willing to let the Cubs back in your life. If your cousin pulled the stuff Chicago does, you’d cut him off and say, “have a nice life.”

So with that, I propose a moratorium on the Cubs. You can talk about them or write about them if you’re in Chicago, but they’re not allowed to be in anything national.

Frankly, the rest of the country is tired of all the unwarranted attention.



Contact David Ely at d.ely04@gmail.com.