The Chicago Cubs continue to cement their legacy as the single worst franchise in the history of professional sports. Having lived many years on the West Coast, I’ve learned the reason.
Without the proximity of Hawaii, Las Vegas, Mexico, significant national parks, ski resorts, Disney-type mega-parks and the like, the young person in Chicago has little alternative for his leisure dollar.
With congenial Wrigley Field being smack dab in the middle of tens of thousands of young urban professionals, ownership has a built-in constituency with little alternative.
The Cubs are, accordingly, always profitable, and ownership has no incentive to produce a winning product.
This contrasts with the Giants, A’s and Dodgers, for examples, whose attendance figures plummet if they are losing.
The population simply chooses not to suffer when Las Vegas, Reno, Tahoe, Yosemite, Sunrise, Heavenly Valley, Mexico, the Grand Canyon, Death Valley, Disneyland, Knott’s Berry Farm, Universal Studios tours and so on are, at most, a few hours’ drive away.
I boycotted this miserable group of perennially hapless losers for good in 1979. Hail to Lou Brock, Greg Maddux, Rafael Palmeiro and the others that “management” traded away.
