After spending the last three years trying to decipher the clauses in Frank Thomas’ contract, I suddenly find myself dealing with some new complexities on the other side of town.
What is my tolerance for salsa music? Will I need a translator for Hee Seop Choi or Kyle Farnsworth? Is No. 15 sunblock lotion strong enough to protect me from harmful ultraviolet rays?
These are questions I’ve been asking myself lately as I make the transition from covering the White Sox for the Tribune to the Cubs, moving from one perennially cursed franchise to another. After spending three days at the Cubs Convention last weekend, it didn’t take long to realize that everything has changed and nothing has changed since my last three-year hitch on the North Side ended in 1999.
Just three years after I left, the only players remaining are Sammy Sosa, Kerry Wood and Farnsworth, who went from suspect to prospect to suspect again while I was on the South Side. Andy MacPhail and Ronnie Woo and Yosh Kawano are still around, and Steve Stone is staging a comeback in the TV booth, but most of the faces are unfamiliar, and it was strange not to see Mark Grace hamming it up at the convention.
Cubs fans appear to be the same, still skeptical and optimistic on alternating days, depending on their mood swings and what time of the year it is. The biggest difference between Cubs fans and Sox fans is obvious to anyone who has attended both conventions. Cubs fans politely chide management for bad moves during the question-and-answer sessions, while Sox fans accuse management of deliberately trying to ruin their lives with poor decision-making.
Though they never would admit it, Cubs fans could learn a few lessons from Sox fans, who may not fill Comiskey Park but do pay attention to almost every pitch in every game. The game is always the thing at Comiskey, whereas Wrigley Field, as Tim Raines once remarked, is “an amusement park ride.” Having ridden on the Bobs at Riverview back in the ’60s, I feel qualified to compare it to the “Sammy” ride at Wrigley.
The Bobs was a curve-filled roller-coaster that could leave you wanting more. But it also could leave your stomach queasy. It wasn’t for everyone.
Sosa is a charismatic star who can make some fans melt in his hands while others gripe that he’s “all about Sammy.” Again, he’s not for everyone.
When I last was on the Cubs beat in October 1999, Sosa was still the king and seldom was a discouraging word heard about him. Three years later, Sosa is deified and vilified in Chicago, the subject of endless psychoanalysis. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy . . . ” new manager Dusty Baker said Friday, accurately reflecting the current state of Cubs fans.
Everyone seems to have an opinion on Sosa and the truth, as usual, lies somewhere in between. Sosa’s boom box is not the reason the Cubs have lost more than 90 games in three of the last four seasons. He should not be forced to trade it in for a Walkman.
But a compromise from Sosa surely would be a wise move. With a big turnover of players from last year, not to mention a new manager and coaching staff, it would be a most gracious gesture by Sosa if he asked others to share in the selection of the clubhouse music.
Baker prefers the likes of Bob Marley and John Lee Hooker, whose CDs are available at most local record stores. Sosa should not take it personally if no one wants to listen to “my music” in “my house.” Salsa and Eminem are not for everyone.
Music aside, the Cubs have enough talent to be a competitive team in 2003, though probably not enough to make the postseason, barring big years from kids like Choi, Corey Patterson and Bobby Hill. Expectations aren’t high at the outset of Year One of the Baker era, and he clearly has a lot of work ahead of him to mold this team into a winner.
Every new Cubs manager comes in with a list of ideas in his head, and one item on Baker’s agenda seems to be making Cubs fans stop thinking about the past.
This is a novel approach and I wish Baker well. But it’s an impossible task and not worth the effort. For better or worse, those years and years of heartbreak are now part and parcel of a Cubs fan’s DNA, till death do they part.
Forgetting the past is not really an option, nor should it be. No one ever said: “Forget the Alamo,” so why shouldn’t Cubs fans be able to dwell on 1969 during their idle time?
Rooting for a team with a history of failure is not something any Chicagoan takes lightly. It takes a certain attitude, a lot of patience and a self-effacing sense of humor.
Being a Cubs fan is not for everyone.
