The Game and the After Effects

NOTE: See this comment and this post. This is the one post relating to the Cubs game that I will write. I do NOT accept responsibility for the Cubs losing. Not accepting responsibility is the only thing making my life livable at the moment.

As all the readers of this blog know, we attended the debacle Game 1 of the NLCS. Our seats were quite literally in the top row of the upper deck. As you can see in this picture of Nancy (and her growing bump), the only thing behind the top row in the upper deck is a chain link fence.On a windy night like that night, that chain link fence does nothing to protect those in the top row from the icy sting of Chicago's wind. Upon arriving at our seats, we quickly realized we needed to increase our clothing options, so we strolled down to the convenient and reasonably priced clothing purveyor and purchased a new stocking cap and hooded sweatshirt. This was when we were still in a good mood.

The good mood was elevated when Mark DeRosa hit the flukiest home run ever in the second inning, and we were happy to have the early lead. And we actually kept it for a little while. And then the wheels fell off. Really, you could see it right from the start. Dempster didn't have command of the strike zone, and he seemed to be wanting to establish the "high" end of the strike zone, a strategy that is unconventional to say the least. The fact that this eventually caught up with him was not exactly a surprise, but the way it happend sort of snuck up on us. Walking the pitcher doesn't help. Nor does walking the next guy. Nor does a ridiculous infield hit by Manny Ramirez. It goes without saying that a grand slam followed, all of the life and energy was sucked out of the crowd, and the game was effectively over.
When we were on the train coming home, I started to feel sick to my stomach. At the time, I thought this was because of the Cub game and the fact that I had eaten ballpark food all night. But shortly, it became obvious that it was more than that. By the next morning, Nancy, Sophie and I all woke up with the stomach flu (it's all the rage in Lexington right now). So, we added illness to insult & injury.

Yesterday was basically split between laying down wrapped in blankets or in the bathroom (pleasant, I know). I was determined, however, to stay up and see the Cub game, but was worried that since Game 2 started so late, that I wouldn't be able to stay up for it. Fortunately, the Cub's defense made my life much easier by handing over the game in the second inning, allowing me to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

My one glimmer of hope right now? Rich Harden is pitching Game 3. Frankly, I was a little surprised that he wasn't tipped to start Game 1. He has been our best pitcher since he arrived and should be plenty comfortable pitching on the west coast. Go Rich!!

Now, back to the beginning... Is the game 1 loss somehow my fault? I find it hard to believe that it could be. For one, we were literally sitting as far away from the field as you possibly can and still be in the stadium. Now, I know I am a powerful guy, but I don't think my power extends that far. But this can speak to a larger point involved in this series, which is the millions of people like me, who have pinned all of their hopes and expectations on this team. There were 42,099 of us there Wednesday night, and I can tell you that the burdens of those 42,099 people are heavy. Too heavy to reasonably expect 25 men to carry. So, is the loss my fault? No. Can the pressure of meeting the expectations of Cub fans everywhere play a part in their poor play so far? Definitely. So in way, it's ALL of our fault. Except mine.

Here are some additional pictures: