Root, Root, Root for the Home Team
I’m not really that into sports. Like, at all. When I was little, I used to tell people that my favorite athlete was Michael Jordan because his was the name I could remember and because he played basketball with Bugs Bunny. I think then, at age three, was the most dedicated I’ve ever been to anything related to professional sports.
So when the Cubs started winning big this season and fans started going wild, I observed and smiled the way a grandma does when she watches her grandkids play a video game she doesn’t understand: providing support and care, but with the detachment an observer holds onto when they know they’ll never fully be a participant.
My dad gets excited about sports, and he’s been especially excited that I’m in Chicago as the Cubs have climbed to the top. I get messages from him like this:
And like this:
And I observe and smile and respond like this:
But, as the playoff games have turned into the World Series, something interesting has happened. I’ve caught a little bit of the Cubbie bug. I’ve been discussing games in small talk. I’ve been going to friends’ houses to watch the game. I’ve been sending my dad messages like this:
It’s not that I’ve suddenly become a huge sports fan (don’t worry, Michael Jordan, you will forever be my #1). It’s that it’s fun to get excited about things. It’s even more fun to get excited about things within a community of people, to immerse yourself within a home, to participate. The Cubs’ stint in the World Series happens to coincide with the one-year anniversary of my moving to Chicago, a place that was completely new to me when I moved here.
Last year, I wasn’t sure what Chicago would mean to me. I moved here in a flurry of goodbyes and hellos and Ikea furniture and an immense craving for change. I knew that coming here would offer me the space to stretch creatively and the independence to grow. But I didn’t know how much of a life I would build.
On Sunday, the city was lit up with Cubbie pride. I took a picture of it and sent it to my dad:
I snapped a few more shots of Chicago flying the W, and I smiled looking at them. I was excited to share them with my dad, but I realized that I was equally excited myself. It wasn’t just the city rooting for the Cubs; I was rooting for them too.
It’s a beautiful thing to have multiple homes in multiple places and to be a part of something in all of them: New York, Wesleyan, and now Chicago, where I’ve built a full, rich life. In fact, this issue of Pop Warrior is getting to you a little late because I’ve been so busy living that full, rich life. I don’t know how long I’ll stay in Chicago; I might want to build more homes in more places. But, right now, it’s exciting to participate in and relish in my life here, pieces of which I’ll get to hold onto forever. The Cubs and I are at home in Chicago, and tonight I’ll be rooting for my team in Game 7.
This originally appeared in Pop Warrior, Issue №11 on November 2, 2016.
Pop Warrior is Sarah Halle Corey’s bi-weekly email newsletter about feminism, feelings, pop culture, and everything in between. Subscribe here!
