Celebrating an Achievement and a Place

As I've stated before on this blog and elsewhere, when it comes to the Chicago rivalry of Cubs vs. White Sox, I'm officially neutral, because I really don't care all that much about baseball and sports in general, with the one big exception being the Olympic Games.  I find little excitement in the idea of sitting in front of the TV, or in a ball park, and watching people run around and throw a ball for 2-3 hours.  I'd much rather read a book or watch a PBS program.

Nevertheless, I have influences working on me:  The other three people in my core family root for the Cubs--and may I add that they all attended the first night game at Wrigley Field on 8-8-88.  And I was born on the North Side of Chicago.  So I have more reason to gravitate toward rooting for the Cubs than the White Sox--and passing through the South Side of Chicago, when going back and forth to Valparaiso University for four years, many times right by now-Guaranteed Rate Field--not so sure that name has a ring to it--didn't do much to sway me.

Because of these influences, 11 years ago I was kind of set again the White Sox winning the World Series, and I feel a bit ashamed because every team deserves a chance to win that championship title, and to revel in the accompanying celebration, even if it's a hometown team rivaling the one that the others in my family root for.

And then when the MLB play-offs got underway a few weeks ago, I couldn't help but latch on to the excitement of the Chicago Cubs making their way toward the World Series, especially as they got closer and closer.  After all, it had been 108 years since their last World Series Championship, and it seemed that they were deserving of a chance to clinch that honor after such a long time.  I could sympathize with the plight of the Cubs like any person could sympathize with someone who had been without experiencing something great in so long.

When the Cubs won the National League Pennant on October 22, I was in front of the TV watching the festive celebrations ensue.  And I was there again in front of the TV to watch the National Anthem and start of the first World Series game at Wrigley field in 71 years.  I kept cheering for them in my own way as they struggled through some setbacks against the Cleveland Indians, and then staged a comeback.  And I fully acknowledge that the World Series was becoming a real nail-biter in Game 6, and then especially Game 7, when the Indians caught up to them in the home run score.

But I wasn't up waiting to see how Game 7 would turn out:  I turned my light off at 11 PM, right at the time the rain delay was called, as I was going to be up early the next morning.  (As an aside, the talk was that the rain delay was a God-send.  Notably, when I watched the weather segment on the NBC 5 News at 5 PM earlier on Wednesday, Brant Miller mentioned that rain passing through Chicago that day might make it all the way to Cleveland.)  But something was stirring in me as I lay in bed, preventing me from falling asleep fully, knowing something big might happen.

Less than an hour later, I heard noise in the neighborhood.  Within a couple of minutes, I was headed to the TV, at the same time as my parents were there, to see confirmation that the Cubs, indeed, had won the World Series.  It was certainly exciting to watch the jubilant celebration in full-throttle in Cleveland and in Chicago, then to watch the trophy and MVP award being presented, and hear the thoughts of players and even Chicago Mayor Rahm Emmanuel, who were feeling so overjoyed.

Then, it was something to watch the news the next morning and take stock of what had just happened, and to even hear a jubilant tone in my Mom's voice as she kept expressing her amazement at the big news.  And it was incredible to take in snippets of the celebration parade and rally on Friday, and to hear a total of 5 million people took part along the parade route and at the rally in Grant Park.  (I would have liked to have seen what the Chicago River looked like dyed blue, as that was one intriguing detail of the celebration.)

My sense of excitement is probably superficial because I wasn't following the Cubs much at all throughout the season, until the play-offs, perhaps rendering me a "fair-weather" fan, who just gets caught up in excitement.

But maybe in the midst of this exciting celebration, I feel something stirring in me deep down.  I rejoice that the Cubs won the World Series because they are part of the identity of Chicago's North Side, which I consider part of my identity.  I'm an Oak Park resident, but I still feel a sense of connection to Chicago and especially its North Side, also being fully aware of the interconnected relationship between Oak Park and Chicago, that one can't really fully embrace its identity without the other.

Six years ago this day, Saturday November 5, 2011, when I was at Valparaiso University, I went with a group of friends to see The Count of Monte Cristo at a theater in the Rogers Park neighborhood.  When my friend and longtime roommate first told me he was organizing this trip, I jumped at the chance to go into the city.  That day, after passing through Chicago's South Side on the South Shore Line, one of many trips I've made on that train route, our group boarded the Red Line and traveled through the North Side of Chicago, at one point, only about a couple of miles east of Swedish Covenant Hospital, where I was born.  I certainly enjoyed the play, but what resonated most with me regarding this trip was to connect with Chicago, my birthplace, traveling the whole length of it, right into the North Side, close to the northern border of the city.

So I feel deeply connected with that place that's part of my identity, and the various facets of life there on the North Side, as one part of Chicago that contributes its own special elements to the patchwork quilt that is the City of Chicago.

So Go Cubs Go, and great job this season!  May you and all the fans savor this incredible achievement, as all of us in and around Chicago celebrate this special place and all the elements that contribute to what it is.