Remember the Thunder Cats? I do. It was my favorite cartoon show to watch as a child, and probably a real bane for my parents, too, since we had one T.V. with raggedy rabbit ears and about three stations came in clear in all of Chicago. So I spent a lot of time holding on to the antennaes and doing delicate ballet moves while trying to watch the show. Yeah. They've up and disappeared. No more Thunder Cats Roar. 
I was thinking about this because I was also thinking about the Chicago Cubs. I grew up pretty close to Wrigley Field, and one of my favorite things to do while riding the El was look at ole' Wrigley Field, with its sad siding and the nostalgia that invoked the smell of peanuts and Chicago style dogs.
We all know the Cubbies are a sad sack of a baseball team. They haven't won a world series since what, something like ninety plus years ago? They suck! Not only do they suck, but their fans suck. Remember that guy--who screwed up the foul ball? Whatta loser! This is what the Cubbies get--years of agonizing loss followed by a short stint of glory, only to be ousted from that position by some grubby-handed Chicagoan hungry for a souvenir.
Yeah, it takes a real loser to root for the Cubs, especially when the White Sox are right around the corner from the Cubs and they often have a fighting chance at winning. But there I am, rooting for the Cubs day in and out.
That's what stoics do. We hang in there with the worst and hope for the best. We take a more Platonic view of the world: baseball has a higher Form, and if that Form could be perceived by the human eye, then the Cubs would be the model team. The Cubs teach their fans patience. The Cubs teach their fans to love unconditionally. The failure the Cubs have suffered through all these years has brought families and generations together. My mother was a mover and shaked during the '60's. She shook Martin Luther King, Jr's hand. Her father was still calling black folks 'jungle bunnies'. Talk about tension in the family. But through it all, both remained fans of the Cubs. And they kept hanging in there, waiting for the Cubs to get what was due, waiting for the suffering to pay off.
It's true. My favorite baseball team doesn't have any homerun heroes like Mark McGwire. They don't have the Series tucked in their belts. They lost Wrigley Field, no longer in use. They have crappy fans and (borrowing from Seinfeld) cotton jerseys that shrink. But you can't tell me that not one guy on that team is any good. Hell, no. They're ALL good; otherwise, they wouldn't be playing for the world's most infamous team for losing. It takes some pride to do that. It takes a little humiliation, as well. If we could all learn to lose like the Cubs, but get up the next morning and throw fast balls, anyway.
Down and Out--the Cubs lose again.
I was thinking about this because I was also thinking about the Chicago Cubs. I grew up pretty close to Wrigley Field, and one of my favorite things to do while riding the El was look at ole' Wrigley Field, with its sad siding and the nostalgia that invoked the smell of peanuts and Chicago style dogs.
We all know the Cubbies are a sad sack of a baseball team. They haven't won a world series since what, something like ninety plus years ago? They suck! Not only do they suck, but their fans suck. Remember that guy--who screwed up the foul ball? Whatta loser! This is what the Cubbies get--years of agonizing loss followed by a short stint of glory, only to be ousted from that position by some grubby-handed Chicagoan hungry for a souvenir.
Yeah, it takes a real loser to root for the Cubs, especially when the White Sox are right around the corner from the Cubs and they often have a fighting chance at winning. But there I am, rooting for the Cubs day in and out.
That's what stoics do. We hang in there with the worst and hope for the best. We take a more Platonic view of the world: baseball has a higher Form, and if that Form could be perceived by the human eye, then the Cubs would be the model team. The Cubs teach their fans patience. The Cubs teach their fans to love unconditionally. The failure the Cubs have suffered through all these years has brought families and generations together. My mother was a mover and shaked during the '60's. She shook Martin Luther King, Jr's hand. Her father was still calling black folks 'jungle bunnies'. Talk about tension in the family. But through it all, both remained fans of the Cubs. And they kept hanging in there, waiting for the Cubs to get what was due, waiting for the suffering to pay off.
It's true. My favorite baseball team doesn't have any homerun heroes like Mark McGwire. They don't have the Series tucked in their belts. They lost Wrigley Field, no longer in use. They have crappy fans and (borrowing from Seinfeld) cotton jerseys that shrink. But you can't tell me that not one guy on that team is any good. Hell, no. They're ALL good; otherwise, they wouldn't be playing for the world's most infamous team for losing. It takes some pride to do that. It takes a little humiliation, as well. If we could all learn to lose like the Cubs, but get up the next morning and throw fast balls, anyway.
Down and Out--the Cubs lose again. 
