Monday, February 21, 2011
February 19, 2011
The magic three words have gone out. They are, of course: "Pitchers and catchers..." They've been followed in parks in Florida and out west by two even more magical words: "Play ball."
Dreams stir, old dreams, even though you know they won't come true this year either. "Washington," one old saying goes, "First in war, first in peace, last in the American League." That was the old Senators, of course. Now it's the Nationals in the National League, but not much else has changed.
Perhaps the sharpest pain is saved for those of us who root for--well, hope, maybe, or just feel faint twinges over--the Chicago Cubs. What a team! What a record! Last won the pennant--the championship of their league, the National, more than half a century ago. That was in 1945. They lost the World Series, of course, to the Detroit Tigers in seven games. I was a disappointed kid back then but, hey, the future lay ahead. Now it no longer does. The Cubs last won the World Series back in 1908, more than a century ago. I wasn't alive then and don't expect to be alive should they ever do it again.
Still, it's a lovely park, Wrigley-- ivy on the outfield walls, and all that. Lovable losers, their fans call thrm, though losers, of course, aren't very lovable, mostly. How many admirers has Alf Landon these days. Or, come to that, Tom Dewey.
Oh well, play on, Cubbies. Hapless, helpless, hopeless, whatever. You know I'll be paying attention.