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The ancient laws continue to hold true. The sun will rise each morning. The stars will shine each night. The Cubs will lose!
From our distant haven in the Ozarks, it is a comfort to know that things do not change. Though the dulcet tones of Jack Brickhouse and the sight of ivy-covered walls are but golden memories, just knowing the ghosts of the ’69 Mets still dance in the infield is comforting.
Dear Cubs, new faces on the roster or strangely named teams in the league will never change you. Stay as sweet as you are! In our twilight years, you are our solid rock of humility.
