October 20, 2003

The fans of the Boston Red Sox and the Chicago Cubs were once again taken to the brink of ecstasy and then disappointed, like so many teenage boys at a make-out party, or, if you prefer, all those boys’ wives throughout their marriages.

As if you didn’t know (and there are people who don’t), the Chicago Cubs were within five outs of World Series with a three-run lead in Game Six of the National League Championship Series. Cub ace, Mark Prior had thrown 95 pitches through seven innings. He retired Mike Mordecai to start the eighth inning, but he was visibly tired. Cub fans began to worry – should Dusty bring in Farnsworth? Juan Pierre doubled. Now the Bleacher Bums couldn’t yell for a reliever loud enough. But Dusty chewed his toothpick and waited. With Juan Pierre on second base, Luis Castillo hit a 3-2 pitch into the left field foul stands - almost. As the ball came down right above the brick wall, Joe Fan reached for the ball, just above the outstretched glove of Cub left fielder Moises Alou. Joe, a purported Cub fan, tipped the ball away from Alou and Castillo’s at-bat stayed alive. Alou was incensed. Castillo walked and the pitch got away from catcher Paul Bako, moving Pierre to third base. Now the howling began. Prior’s pitch count was suddenly at 114, and he was struggling. It was still 3-0. Dusty chewed a little harder and Cub fans began to stir uneasily in their seats, as if the previous night’s draft beer and the lunchtime burritos had caught up with them. On an 0-2 pitch, Ivan Rodriguez singled, scoring Pierre. "It’s okay," the Cub collective whispered, "still 3-1." Dusty had to relieve Prior now. But no, the next pitch was a double play ground ball to sure-handed Alex Gonzalez, who booted it. The Cub fans bleated. It wasn’t the Curse of the Goat – tonight there would be a whole herd of them – Joe Fan, Gonzalez and Dusty. The Marlins touched home eight times in the inning, sending a shocked and drunken crowd stumbling home from Waveland Avenue.

As if you didn’t know (and there are people who don’t), the Boston Red Sox were within five outs of World Series with a three-run lead in Game Seven of the American League Championship Series. Grady Little chose to stick with Pedro Martinez, who was clearly out of gas to the Primates. Derek "Clutch" Jeter doubled. Then, in a synchronized maneuver as smooth as the congregation kneeling at Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Easter Sunday, the Red Sox Nation fell to their knees, pleading for Little to take Pedro out. Bernie Williams singled scoring Jeter, making the score 5-3. Hideki Matsui roped a 0-2 pitch for a double down the right field line. A fan reached out and touched the ball, stopping Bernie Williams at third, allowing the Nation to inhale wincingly, like a man that is pretty sure he’s been hit in the family jewels, but has that, that fleeting moment of hope, where it may not hurt too bad, before he doubles over in agony. The pleas reached a fever pitch - "For God’s sake, Grady, get Pedro out of there!" No move was made. Jorge Posada came to the plate. Posada gorked a ball into centerfield that Nomar, Todd Walker and Johnny Damon all frantically tried to catch, with no success. The Texas leaguer fell safely to the ground and Williams and Matsui both scored. In the dizzying events, the Red Sox players failed to cover second base and Posada strolled in with a crowd-rousing double. It was a fine pitch and good hitting, and an unbelievable amount of luck, but it brought one gigantic collective Charlie Brown "AUGH" from The Citizens. The score was tied 5-5 and Grady Little ambled to the mound. He was just too late – and everyone but Grady and Pedro knew that he was too late before it got to be too late.

As if you didn’t know, heartbreak was all these fans got this baseball season. Sure, there is some satisfaction in saying "We won the division" or "We had the best offense" and "We at least made the playoffs", but that’s Atlanta Braves-type satisfaction. And it stinks.

So now the really serious arguing begins. No, not who screwed up more, Dusty or Grady, but who suffers more: Red Sox fans or Cubs fans?

Let’s take a look:

The Cubs last won the World Series in 1908 - nice, round 95-year drought. The Red Sox last won when they beat the Cubs in 1918 – a nice, round 85-year drought.

Since the Cubs last won, oh, those many years ago, they have been to the World Series seven times. Yes, it has been since 1945, and few of you reading this, if any, were even alive to see it. Nonetheless, the Cubs have had their chances, considering what we know about short series.

Looking at the 1945 World Series, it looks mostly like the Cubs tried to ride Hank Borowy, the original 1984 Rick Sutcliffe, one too many times and Game 7 got out of hand before anything could be done to stop it. Borowy had started Games 1 and 5 and threw 4 innings of relief in Game 6 before starting Game 7 on one day’s rest. Then the Cubs settled into five decades of second division play. The Cubs threatened competitiveness from 1968-1972, but until 1984, the Cubs were pretty wretched.

The Red Sox made it to the World Series in 1986, 1975, 1967, and 1946. Four times since 1918. In three of those seasons, they played a really dominant team. The Cardinals weren’t strong for many seasons, but the Big Red Machine and the Mets from 1984-1990 were very tough opponents. I guess what has added to the Sox misery is that all of their World Series appearances have gone the distance – each one with that single moment that turns the game from a Sox victory to a Sox defeat. Johnny Pesky’s extra crow-hop and Enos "Country" Slaughter scoring from first; the buzzsaw that was Bob Gibson; Doyle’s error in the sixth keeping the inning alive, just before a Perez home run; Buckner.

Each time, the Sox had not only made the World Series, but had gotten three wins and were just one game away from putting all this "curse" nonsense behind them. Heck, in three of the four WS, the Sox led in the game. In 1975 and 1986, they had a three-run lead going into the sixth inning.

So who has suffered more? I say, the Red Sox fans. It’s not too disappointing to be "Lovable Losers". It isn’t a lot of fun, except in the bleachers, but it isn’t really heart wrenching.

The Cubs go about each season, playing hard and working toward the top of the hill, only to start over each season. The fans feel excitement, but it’s always tempered, expecting disappointment. The Red Sox have had the Champions’ Cup pressed against their lips, even to the point of tilting the glass back, only to have it slapped away before washing the bitter taste of another lost chance out of their mouths.

In the end, who really suffers more, Sisyphus or Tantalus? Damnation is damnation.