My brother was a diehard Cubs fan his whole life. And since I was always a “me too” kind of a sister, so am I. I had to cheer for the Cubs even when they were playing my home team, the Dodgers, in the National League playoffs this year. My Cubs and Chicago roots took over.
But always on my mind during this winning Cubs season was my wish my brother were still alive to experience it. He would have been ecstatic. He never gave up on them and neither did I. One year for his birthday we sent him a replica of the Wrigley Field sign. My brother and I used to take the El train to Wrigley Field to see the Cubs play many afternoons, so he loved the sign and the reminder of his go-to place as a boy.
I was ecstatic when his Cubbies came back from one to three to tie up the series three all and force a seventh game. And I was ecstatic when his Cubbies won the 2016 baseball World Series EIGHT to SEVEN against the Cleveland Indians on Wednesday night. Who knows? Maybe they’ll do it again next year. They certainly have the momentum.
Here’s the little poem I wrote about it:
If I’d Only Been Able to Perform That Miracle
I would have brought
my big brother back to life
so he could have experienced
his favorite Cubbies finally win
the 2016 baseball World Series
after 108 years.
He loved the Cubs from
the time he was a little boy,
when he’d take the El train
in Chicago, dragging his little sister along,
to see every game he could at Wrigley Field.
His eyes would light up
on the few occasions when the poor team
won a game or two,
never losing hope that they’d one day
find their greatness.
He was faithful even in death.
A Cubs shirt was buried with him,
a Cubs logo is engraved
on the bench near his grave.
If I’d only been able to perform that miracle
and bring him back for just one day.
I can almost see the look
he’d have on his face,
the tears welling up in his eyes,
his screeches of joy
when his Cubbies finally became
the number one team in the world.
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