The Cubs have so many traditions and superstitions it’s hard to keep track of them all and still have enough brain cells left to watch the games.
Most people know why bleacherites throw back home run balls by opposing hitters. But does anyone know why Alfonso Soriano jumps before catching a routine fly ball in left field?
To steal a line from Jerry Seinfeld, here are some answers to the immortal question: “What’s the deal with …?”
Soriano’s mini-hop
A converted second baseman, Soriano just started playing the outfield in 2006 with the Washington Nationals. When he had trouble with catches early in spring training that year, he decided to make a little jump before catching routine fly balls, and he has continued that eccentricity with the Cubs. “I came up with that because every time in batting practice, I was waiting for a ball to come down and I’d drop it,” he said. “I said to myself, ‘I don’t want to wait for a ball to come to me. I’ll get it.’ Soriano said it helps his concentration. “If I make it routine, I drop it,” he said. “So I make a little jump to make it tougher, and now I don’t drop it.”
The Big Z-Fontenot high-five
When 5-foot-8-inch second baseman Mike Fontenot high-fives 6-5 Carlos Zambrano in the on-field celebration line after wins, Zambrano holds his hand as high as he can and makes Fontenot leap to slap it. “I take it all with a grain of salt,” Fontenot said.
Pointing to the sky
Zambrano points to the sky after he walks off the mound every inning, and he has been doing it since he became a Cub. Why? “He’s the man,” Zambrano explained. Cliff Floyd began pointing to the sky in September after hitting home runs. Why? Floyd is pointing to his late father, Cornelius, whom he called Pops. “I don’t even know where that came from,” Floyd said. “I just started doing it. I usually don’t do that. Sometimes I get emotional, and sometimes I don’t.” The senior Floyd died in August, and the final time he saw his son play was on the June day when Aramis Ramirez hit a two-run, walk-off homer to beat Milwaukee at Wrigley Field.
The pink backpack
The Cubs reliever with the shortest tenure must lug a pink backpack with kiddie character Strawberry Shortcake on it out to the bullpen before every game. Down the stretch, rookie Kevin Hart carried the backpack, after Carlos Marmol was relegated to the role at the end of August. Sean Gallagher, Carmen Pignatiello and former Cubs Rocky Cherry and Clay Rapada are among the other relievers forced to tote the backpack this season.
“It’s got gum, sunflower seeds, energy bars, sunscreen,” Hart said. “You can’t have a bullpen without seeds and gum. Usually in the minors when you want gum, you walk over and get it yourself. Here, I get yelled at if it’s not full and stocked to their liking.”
Marmol couldn’t wait to hand off the backpack at the end of August, counting down the days. Even having the lowest ERA among relievers did not excuse him from the duty. Hart doesn’t mind the job so much. “It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “The way I look at it is you’ve got to carry a big bag 90 feet a day. I’ll just take my lumps, and someday hopefully there will be somebody else new and I won’t have to do it anymore.”
The super jump
Felix Pie invented the “super jump,” which the Cubs’ outfielders perform after victories, jumping up and bumping into each other in mid-air. Usually it’s the trio of Pie, Soriano and Jacque Jones, the three outfielders out there at the end of most games. “It’s emotional when you win, so you have to do something different,” Pie said. “I talked to Jacque one day and said, ‘Let’s get a jump,’ and then he started jumping with me. It’s different than just using your hands [for high-fiving].” Why does Pie call it the “super jump?” Some things are better left unknown.
The Cypress Hill song
Cubs reliever Will Ohman made a CD that features a Cypress Hill rap song with questionable lyrics and sound effects that sometimes can be heard in the background on sports-talk radio or local newscasts in snippets from the home clubhouse. Unlike the White Sox’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” this song is not suitable for children. The Cubs have played the same CD over and over this season, except during Ohman’s brief exile to Iowa in August.
The ‘W’ flag
For decades the Cubs have flown a “W” or an “L” flag from the center-field scoreboard after games so riders passing by on the El would know whether they had won or lost. The Cubs began using the “W” flag in their marketing campaign this year and even put it on tickets for the Cubs Convention in January.
Back in the dog days of 1999, with the Cubs mired in a prolonged slump, closer Rod Beck suggested an end to the tradition of flying the “L” flag. “I think it’s bad karma,” Beck said. “I’m not blaming anything for it. But I’m a believer in positive energy and karma. When you lose a ballgame and fly an ‘L’ over the park, you leave a bad aura around the ballpark, and it can go all the way into the next day.”
Beck wanted the Cubs to keep the “W” flag. “When [the El riders] don’t see any flag, they can assume it’s an ‘L,'” he said. “Or maybe they can fly a ‘W’ for ‘Wanted to win.'”
