The Value of Superstition: 557 Miles from Wrigley.
Being a college freshman has its ups and downs. The temptation to stay in bed because “it’s just English”, or doing laundry until two in the morning when nobody else is there to bother you, being away from home is a new experience. But there’s one thing that remains a constant, allowing you to keep a sliver of the sanity that remains in a mind ravaged by daily essays, midterms and bizarre deadlines: sports.
Lawrence, Kansas is 557 miles from Wrigley Field. If I left my dorm this second, I’d have an eight and a half hour drive ahead of me. I could listen to “Go Cubs Go” by Steve Goodman ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-EIGHT times through.
For Game 7 of the 2016 World Series, I had the opportunity to experience the environment of Wrigleyville. In an setting that could only be described with the countless synonyms for crazy, I recall high-fiving more humans than I ever have before. Everybody had a smile on their face. I’ll never forget the scene filled with innumerable W flags waving from balconies, tied around shoulders in a cape-like fashion, and those using the cloth to wipe away the tears dedicated to 108 years of generational frustration.
If the situation of another World Series clincher presented itself to the city of Chicago in the coming weeks, I’d be celebrating from a collapsable chair. It’s not jealousy, but there sure as hell is a lot of sentiment. To be in that moment again just after a year’s worth of celebration, I’d trade any of my personal successes to be roaming the streets, unable to hear my brother walking directly next to me from the blaring car horns, continuously, yet awkwardly pumping my fist uncontrollably.
Cubs baseball, especially in October, will always ignite a fire in my soul, but I’ve had trouble building that passion in a standard dorm room setting. I’m not going step outside and be greeted by Cubs fans who anxiously awaited each and every pitch like me. I’m lucky to step outside and not find a group of intoxicated residents struggling to find their keys to their rooms on the way back from the bars. It’s different. I’m not home anymore.
So in a lengthy search and effort to regain the intensity I had lost, I realized something important; the passion, the animation, the fanaticism is inside of me. I’ve been wasting my time on the lookout for something I have possessed the whole time.
After a Game 1 victory in the NLDS against the Washington Nationals, I remembered my routine. From my spot on my bed facing the television, to the company in the room, what I ate for dinner, to the attire I donned for the victory, everything stayed the same. Even for the struggles in game’s two and four, I remained optimistic, true to my superstitions and stuck with my guns for Game 5. We all know how that one turned out.
During the 2016 postseason run, I sat on my couch back in the suburbs of Chicago, refused to use the bathroom during the games and wore the same Kris Bryant jersey night in, night out without throwing it in the wash. See, deep down I know that my actions 557 miles from Wrigley aren’t going to have an effect on the outcome of the game, but it’s the act of “going through the motions” and finding silly entertainment that has lifted my spirits for the 2017 postseason.
Wrigley Rapport writers hail from all over the country. Not all of us can enjoy the grace of Wrigley and for the first time, I’m one of those people, but we all have our own ways of finding delight in the ballgame. Whether it’s listening to Pat Hughes and Ron Coomer instead of the national broadcasters, wearing the same Mark Prior jersey you’ve had for fourteen years, or enjoying an Old Style (or four) throughout the night, each and every one of us have our own “thing.” Whether we admit to it or not, these superstitions are what drives our fandom from casual to die-hard.
No matter the outcome of this year’s journey, remember that the wisdom of Jon Lester teaches us, “not everything can be peaches and roses”, so rejoice in the moment, sit back and enjoy the show.
