The Big Waffle

It's hard to explain just how a lifelong Cub fan feels about the Sox thrilling championship run: emphathetic and excited, yes, but also divided and ultimtely, unable to fully partake in the joy. Amid all the calls for citywide baseball unification, you want to jump aboard the Ozzie Express, but there are a few things holding you back. For this Cub fan, the Sox can only be savored from a chilly, envious distance.

Growing up in downstate Illinois, home of the Class A Quincy Cubs, and following the team my whole life, my dream remains singular: A World Series at Wrigley Field. As the Sox and their fans' dream unfolds this week a big part of me is wishing it was happening here, in Wrigleyville. "Why not us?'' became a rallying cry a few years ago when Dusty Baker took over the Cub reins. Now it is more like, "Why can't it be us?'' My ties and loyalty to the team date forward from 1969 -- 1970 to be exact -- but have been tested as never before in the past few months.

Indeed, the way the Sox have played this year -- aggressive, opportunistic, everyone contributing to a total team effort -- has only underscored the multitude of flaws in the Cubs' approach and performance in recent years. While the Cubs were supposed to be the ones anchored by superb starting pitching, it is now the White Sox' rotation that is rightfully being acclaimed for its dominance and durability. The way the White Sox have done it makes the Cubs look even worse than they have in the front office and on the field in '05, which was pretty woeful.

Everything the Sox and their fiery manager do this season seems to be imbued with a magical touch that makes it all turn out right in the end. The Cubs have had this kind of good thing going a few times in my life -- 1984, 2003 come to mind -- but then something terrible happens. If the Sox can bring it home, they will become legends of the fall and of this title hungry city, whose combined World Series drought extends 176 pathetic years. Of course, those same fans could also become even more insufferable if they flaunt their success in our faces and constantly remind us of our failures to deliver the ultimate prize, but we can deal with that when it comes.

What Cub fans are really hoping, though, is that the Sox' success will light a fire under the Wrigley brass to do what it takes to right the ship and put together another winning team. Maybe they aren't that far away, but the "ifs'' about their pitching, bullpen, middle infield and outfield seem far too numerous now to be resolved in a single season. And as the National League Championship Series demonstrated, the Cubs' division is much deeper than the Sox, making the postseason far dicier.

When the Cubs got within five outs of the World Series in '03, I felt it was only a matter of time before they reached the Promised Land. I signed up for season tickets (partial plan) and moved to Chicago to be here for the crowning moments. I was there for the letdowns of Games 6 and 7 in the '03 NLCS, and as painful as those losses were, that season was to be the springboard for more, better things, to come. Surely, we were on our way to sustained excellence, modeled after the Braves with their pitching carrying them to repeated division titles and playoff appearances if not championships. The disappointment of not coming close in '05 during a baffling season has revived cynicism over their cursed fate. As an old colleague put it to me recently, "If you accept the fact that the Cubs are never going to win the World Series in your lifetime, it makes life a lot easier.'' I have not yet reached that point of complete resignation, but it's a reasonable approach. For a variety of reasons, I'm thinking about cutting back on the number of Cub games I go to next year, giving up my regular tickets. But I won't and can't become a Sox fan, even a Bi-Sox-ual to borrow the trendy new term for cross-over, bandwagon types.

So much of me wants to jump to the Sox side, to go down to the neighborhood where it is all happening and soak up the atmosphere. But I can't and won't (people without tickets are advised to stay away anyway.) I'm a North Sider who lives within five blocks of Wrigley Field; I'll soak it up from here. After a lifetime of procuring souvenir items from sporting events, I can't even bring myself to buy a hat or T-shirt emblazoned with "American League Champions," or dare we say it, "World Series.'' I feel I haven't "earned it.'' To totally jump the moon over this team or any other would be disloyal and dishonest. The Sox have always been my favorite American League team, from the heydey of Wilbur Wood and Harry Caray in the 70s, but it's a distant second, and that's how it remains. I'm a National League fan and a Cub fan, and it's there's no way of replacing that Cubbie blue that runs through my veins.

Yes, I will be rooting for the Sox in the World Series, but it will be with mixed emotions. I spoke to another die-hard Cub fan and friend who shares my sentiments. I asked her if she was not rooting for the Sox to go all the way and she waffled, too. "Do you really want them to do it before we do?'' asked Beth, a fellow season ticket holder at Wrigley. I didn't have a ready answer. Not really, and oh how I wish it were the Cubs instead; how pumped up would we be right now? But since they're there and we aren't, it's go go Sox. As much as I want to be, I'm afraid my heart just won't let me be there with them 100 percent along the way.