Which Is Better, Losing Early or Losing in Dramatic Fashion?

After another manager exited the Cubs clubhouse, it got me thinking about one of the great quandaries in sports – would you rather come close to winning or never have any shot at victory?  In other words, would you rather be of the Gene Mauch Angels or the 1896 Providence Grays?  ("Who the heck are the Providence Grays?" you ask?  My point exactly.)  To simplify the question, would you rather be the 2003 Cubs or all the other Cubs?

There are few constants in sports – a Norv Turner coached team won’t win, Mark Cuban will piss someone off at some point, fans in the US will only show real interest in soccer once the country makes the World Cup finals, and the Cubs are destined to failure, most times never even putting up much of a fight, save for 1969, 1984, and most recently 2003. 

On the other hand, a team like the Boston Red Sox, would regularly bring their teams to the brink of victory only to have their dreams crushed in the most ritualistically diabolical manner possible.

And if you’ve ever had your hopes dashed so historically at the last second, you’ll know it’s like winning a race around the globe where the winner gets a full week locked inside a hotel room with Megan Fox, only to have Megan replaced with Snooki from “Jersey Shore” at the last second.  [Ugh.  I threw up in my mouth just writing that sentence.]

There is actually an equation that explains this phenomenon:

t + p = x,

where t is time and p  is persistence.  x represents an undetermined contentment quotient upon the ultimate outcome of your team’s season.

For instance, the more time you put in and the more persistence you show over time, the greater your happiness will be when your team wins.  This, of course, assumes that the team will someday win. 

Though an assumption that a team will win can be foolish as it is possible the team will never win.  [See: Chicago Cubs; any Cleveland team]  Still the damage to your psyche is negligible as long as you don’t add the one element that ruins everything – expectation (h).

Then the equation changes to e + t + p  = x/2 + ktb

so your ultimate happiness is halved relative to all that you’ve put in since nothing could live up to what you’ve built up in your mind as the end-all, be-all, plus ktb which is a kick to the balls, the emotional feeling you get when you are, in fact, kicked in the balls. 

Look at the Tampa Bay Rays in 2008.  They beat arch nemesis Boston in a thrilling seven games only to have their hearts handed to them by the Philadelphia Phillies.  Wouldn’t it have been better for them to lose much earlier, particularly since their fan base goes to bed at 8 p.m.?  They weren’t expected to do anything, until they started to do something. 

To reach the ring, to hold the crown, to feel the golden ticket only to have it wrenched from your hands leaving a golden paper cut is a horrible feeling; though it doesn’t hurt as much if you’re used to it. 

If your team has never won, you don’t know what you’re missing, though you’ve heard stories and seen celebrations.  But like Cinderella herself, until you go to the ball, you don’t know that it’s an open bar with nothing but top shelf libations.  You just know you’re sick of cleaning rat turd off your stepmother’s floor.

And it doesn’t hurt that much if you’ve experienced victory.  You understand that the downs contained some ups and could potentially have some again.  You can’t win them all (as much as Yankees fans will have you believe they can). 

Once you refrain from using the “e” word, your frustrations will be more moderate.  By now, Cubs fans have begun to wonder, “Maybe this is how it will always be, destined to fail.”  And that’s fine.  Expect that.  Go, enjoy the games, and get ready for football season.  If, by the (Mark) Grace of God, the team should happen to win, excellent – Enjoy it!

Oh, you can still get the tattoo of the team’s logo or name your kids after the team’s equipment manager or play-by-play announcer, but don’t expect too much, especially as the team progresses into the playoffs.  That’s just what the evil powers pulling the strings would have you do.  (Hm, did anyone else’s lights just flicker along with a boom of thunder?)

I quote the great Sam “Mayday” Malone when I say, “Have you ever had a pressure cooker fly by you at 100 m.p.h.? . . . Don’t.”

Such is the feeling of losing in historically dramatic fashion at the end of a season instead of early on.

But don’t let me sway you.  What about you, Mr. Orioles fan, are you content gearing up for Ravens’ season in May once you realize team owner Peter Angelos has not put a winning squad on the field?  Or would you rather keep to the schedule of watching baseball through the pennant race in September then transitioning seamlessly into football just in time to watch Ray Lewis and the gang chasing a division title?

It’s up to you.  I expect you to make the right decision . . . Oh, dammit, there’s that word again.  Now I’m vested.  Don’t let me down; this could be very traumatic for me.