There’s no baseball Switzerland in Chicagoland: Either you root for the Cubs or you root for the White Sox.
That’s not to say you can’t be a fan of another team — the Minnesota Twins, for instance — but real Chicago fans will dismiss such nonsense and demand you ally with a real team. Since the Chicago White Sox appall and terrify me (I mean, c’mon, they’re in the same division as the Twins), I therefore am a Cubs fan.
OK, there’s a little bit of bandwagon going on (since it’s impossible to root for the Twins in this postseason), but besides their non-White-Sox-ness, the Cubs have earned a little (or a lot of) postseason compassion. Without a World Series title in more than a century, how can root against the Cubs?
This means, in this golden month of the baseball season when defeats are agonizing and victories are thrilling, I’m organizing my days around the Cubs games.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being afraid. If the Cubs would be so fortunate as to throw off a century of superstitions to actual win the World Series, I’d be looking around for Jesus in the clouds or hell to freeze over or a passel of zombies to appear on the horizon.
Surely that would be a sign of the apocalypse.
But still, go Cubbies!