Having grown-up as a youth in Southern Illinois, my baseball loyalty was bestowed upon the St. Louis Cardinals, and the ancestral legacy in my DNA decreed that no deviation from this loyalty was acceptable as long as I rode on this planet. And so, this genetic truth has remained constant in my lifetime, in harmony with nature and the universe, even as I lived most of my abundant, adult years in Indianapolis where the majority of baseball fandom cheers on the (gag) Cincinnatti Reds.

As a Cardinal fan who has always bled Cardinal-red, imbued in my blood was always too, a hatred for the small bears of Chicago. This can be granted of course to the simple mechanics of a local rivalry. But upon closer introspection, I realize my contempt of the small bears is also enhanced due to the contributing factor of having grown-up in a college town where the majority of students were from Chicago. In my formative years I discovered that these Chicagoans were a distasteful race. Obnoxious and offensive are adjectives that come to my mind when describing them. And their accents are unpleasant and snooty, and grate on the nerves of any civilized person.

And I’ve always hated the Yankees, why I don’t know. But hate them I have, with a searing passion all my life. Rick Reilly comes close to capturing a sense, when he said, “…rooting for the Yankees takes all the courage, imagination, conviction, and baseball intelligence, of Spam. It’s like rooting for Brad Pitt to get the girl or for Bill Gates to hit Scratch ‘n’ Win. (This is why I’m proposing legislation that would allow only those born in one of the five New York boroughs to be Yankee fans. All others who root for the team will be considered overdog-loving, Eveready-chucking, bandwagon-hopping, fair-weather, brownnose, pucker-lipped human goiters and be required to turn in their pinstriped underwear or be tossed into the East River with only Chuck Knoblauch to throw them a life preserver.)
But as I matured and now hobble through my golden twilight years, the passion for major league sports has cooled. Oh, I still hate the small bears and Yankees with a passion, make no mistake. The players strike of ’94 made me realize the obscene amounts of money have ruined the games for me. Players trade teams the way we change socks. As I write this, Moises Alou, has a four-year, $72 million contract. And that’s chump change compared to many others in the leagues. When I was coming up, it was a major news story if a player traded teams. The money itself would not be a thorn in my side if one only considered that this is a democratic society with a free-enterprise system. But, I can’t get over the fact that something is very wrong with the picture, when a teacher, someone who really makes a difference, a teacher…makes their mortgage payments, buys their groceries, and attempts to send their children to college on a $25,000 or so yearly salary. Don’t even get me started or I’ll stab you through the heart with a f#@*in pencil, and run over your ass with my Hover-round.

Okay, enough with the negative energy. Let’s finish this treatise with something close to the subject matter. The real reason the Cubs lost, and the Cub’s Curse.

A writer for the Peoria Star Journal stated the truth most succinctly… “I always thought the Cubs lost these last 58 years because of bad pitching, awful fielding, and anemic hitting. They lost, I figured, because ownership was not committed to excellence, because general managers over the years tended to generally mismanage and because their field manager du jour didn’t know a double-switch from a light switch.”

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The Curse of the Billy Goat

The original Billy Goat tavern was “born” in 1934 when Greek immigrant, William “Billy Goat” Sianus, purchased the Lincoln Tavern. Billy Goat bought the tavern for $205, with a check that bounced but was later repaid with sales from the first weekend. The tavern was located across from the Chicago Stadium (now United Center) and attracted mainly sports fans. Sianis became known as “Billy Goat”, when a goat fell off a passing truck and wandered inside. Sianis adopted the goat, grew a goatee, was nicknamed “Billy Goat”, and changed the name of the bar to the Billy Goat Tavern.
In 1944, the Republican Convention came to town, and Billy Goat posted a sign saying, “No Republicans allowed.” This caused the tavern to be packed with Republicans demanding to be served, and led to local fame for the savvy Billy Goat, publicity stunt master.

On October 22, 1970 Billy Goat Sianis passed away.

The Cubs haven’t been in the World Series since 1945, and haven’t won one since 1908. The curse was placed on the Cubs during the 1945 World Series by Billy Goat Sianis himself. Sianis happened to be a rabid Cubs fan and attempted to bring his goat, “Murphy” into game four. Murphy even had his own ticket. As Sianis walked into Wrigley Field, the ushers prevented his entry, telling him that no goats were allowed. When Billy Goat asked for an appeal directly to owner P.K. Wrigley, P.K. told them to allow Billy Goat in but not Murphy. When Billy Goat asked why, they said, “Because the goat smells.” In retaliation, Sianis cast the goat curse by saying, “Cubs, they not gonna win anymore.” Subsequently, the Tigers won the series and the Cubs have never been back. The Cub’s loss prompted Billy Goat to send a telegram to P.K. Wrigley asking, “Who smells now?”. Billy Goat supposedly lifted the curse in 1969, but the Cubs blew a nine game lead that year to the Mets, so most believe that the curse remains in place.

Billy’s nephew, Sam Sianis, now owns the tavern. To lift the “remnants” of the curse, Sam twice pulled up to Wrigley Field in 1972 and 1983, in a white limousine with a red carpet, a goat named “Socrates”, and a sign that read, “All is forgiven. Let me lead the Cubs to the pennant. Billy Goat”. Sam was denied entry by the Cubs management both times. The curse was then lifted in 1984, when Cubs management finally relented and Sam brought the goat to opening day. The Cubs won the division, but lost to the Padres in the playoffs. Sam again brought the goat to Wrigley in 1994 after the Cubs lost their first 12 home games. The Cubs won their next game, but the season was cut short due to the players’ strike. The goat made it’s last appearance in 1998, a year that saw the Cubs win a wild card berth in the playoffs but then lose to Gregg Maddux (former Cub) and the Braves.

In his younger days, Sam was described by Mike Royko as, “a bull-like young man who was born in Greece, inherited the tavern from his uncle, the original Billy Goat Sianis. He also inherited Billy Goat’s strong sense of decency. Billy Goat used to hit male customers with his cane if he saw them staring at female customers in miniskirts.” and, “He is only five seven, but he has a nineteen-inch neck and can lift a bar stool by one rung with his teeth.”

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Finally – let me say this. The Cubs choked and blew it. It’s what they do, and they do it better than anybody. They blew a 3-1 series lead, going in to CHICAGO for the final two games, with their two best pitchers. The fan who interfered with the foul ball didn’t cost the small bears a World Series trip. It’s more logical to me to point the finger of blame at the multi-millionaire shortstop, Alex Gonzalez, who couldn’t handle a two-hopper in that inning, at crunch time. What about the highly paid manager du jour of the Cubs, who ordered two intentional walks that inning?? I’ve always liked Dusty Baker since he played with the Dodgers, but he queered the play.

The Cubs, being the Cubs, blew the playoff series.