Chicago Cubs: I Can't Quit You

Maybe I'm the most gullible person on Earth.

Maybe I'm a sucker with no common sense.

Or perhaps I'm just too dumb to know better.

But I just cannot give up on the Chicago Cubs.

In 2008, the Cubs came out and earned the best record in the National League, dominating their home schedule more than any other team in baseball.

The infield features a third baseman who has 27 of his 111 runs batted in in the seventh inning or later, a shortstop who finished in the top ten in the NL in batting average, a second baseman who had a career year with over 20 homers and 80 RBI for the first time, and a perennial Gold Glove winner first baseman.

Geovany Soto, the catcher, is undoubtedly the Rookie of the Year, after starting the All Star Game and being in the top three catchers in the league in average, homers and runs batted in.

The outfield is led by a left fielder who, despite his Bambi-like catching style, nearly led the team in homers while playing in barely half the team's games. Center field was a bottomless hole before Jim Hendry plucked two studs off the junk heap in Reed Johnson and Jim Edmonds, who hit 20 home runs after being diagnosed with a career-ending lack of power in San Diego.

In right field, is the biggest cause for frustration in the field. Kosuke Fukudome started the season by hitting everything in sight and leading the league in pitches per at bat. That trend lasted until the middle of May, when the rookie import caught a case of the nothings and produced exactly that for the next four months.

All of this led me to think that the Cubs had a really good chance to win at least their divisional series, with a strong shot at making the fall classic. During the season, their pitching staff and bullpen were strong, the hitting was good, and the fielding was amongst the best.

Then the calendar rolled over.

I have been a Cubs fan my entire life and cannot even imagine a time when I would honestly believe that Sarah Palin was a better viewing option than playoff baseball. And yet there I was, in my basement sitting next to empty bottles of beer scratching my head in amazement at the wonder unfolding at Wrigley Field.

The defense that had been there all year was gone. The dominating pitching of Ryan Dempster at home, where he won three more games than any other pitcher in baseball did at their homes, was just a bit outside.

All Carlos Zambrano could do was cynically laugh in disbelief.

Two of the worst played games I can remember from a 97-win team were given as a Thank You to the millions of loyal fans the Cubs have abused for 100 years.

And now, as I emotionally prepare for what could be the end of a great season on the North Side, I find myself wondering why I continue watching, caring, and getting interested.

Maybe it's genetics, a blood-born disposition to accept a pathetic annual mocking of my adoration.

Maybe I've been taught that the Cubs are a religion that necessitate as much blind acceptance as they do warranted faith.

Perhaps it's a subliminal love for the aesthetics of the club...the stadium's beauty and history, coupled with the traditional uniforms and team made up of generally good people.

I fear that, either this evening or some time this weekend, I will begin my annual question-answer quest that takes me through to March. I'll look at a roster that has most of their key players under contract for a number of years to come. There will be additions and subtractions, of course, but the nucleus looks to stay intact in 2009.

I will come back. I will spend my money on tickets and shirts and hats and other merchandise. Do I understand why? Not totally...but I accept it.

Go...Cubs...?