An Open Letter

An open letter to the baseball gods, powers that be, and other assorted deities.



20 April 2006



Guys,



OK, seriously: what the hell?



Wait, let me start over. You see, I’ve been drinking. I should admit that outright. I must choose my words carefully. And then run spellcheck. That’s what tequila demands from a guy who sits at a keyboard approaching midnight.

I was drinking before I found out the horrific news about Derrek Lee, and let’s just say I didn’t feel like stopping. My sister and brother-in-law flew down to Austin to visit me, and we were out listening to a live set at the Shady Grove when my pocket started buzzing. It was AWL, and then KJM, each basically encouraging me via mobile technology not to go ballistic.

Except, I didn’t know why I would go ballistic. So I asked myself: what’s the deal? Really, it could only be one thing.

I listened to the voicemail. I read the text message. Lee, out for at least 8 weeks if not the season. HELL. HELL HELL HELL.

So much for this season. So much for anything, everything, whatever. So much for being a Cubs fan. When you're hanging on to ether, and that evaporates from your imagination, at what point do you stop hanging on? How many times can one keep pulling the wool over one's eyes?

I tried to put it to the side and enjoy the end of the show, a fine set on a fine evening. But there it was, gnawing at me. I couldn't let it go. Derrek Lee, quite possibly the best all-around Cub to play in decades – or at least he was about to be – is done for a large part if not all of the season. And it happened on a freak play while I was dozed off in my recliner. Now it feels like even if he comes back this season, it can’t possibly be the same as it was supposed to be.

You get that guys? Lee was supposed to be different. He’s not a prima donna like Sosa. He’s got good karma out the yin yang. The question, then, is if it’s not his fault... is it ours? Is it mine?

If it’s my fault, baseball gods, what other punishment can you possibly inflict? Haven’t I been the one advocating for patience? Haven’t I been the one saying that all of this suffering will make the winning all the better when it finally happens? Haven’t I been trying to step back and look at the bigger picture?

Well, it’s only true that the winning will be better if the winning finally happens, OK? The big picture is only better if it’s actually better, you know what I mean? A crappy big picture is no better than a crappy close-up. And in the meantime, a third season of this torturous injury junk is – quite frankly – over the top. Enough is enough is enough. Is enough.

Are you punishing me? For falling asleep last game? For being stupid enough to go all in on a team like the Cubs? I know I tend to feel that way when I drink tequila and that's probably all it is... but am I really the center of the universe after all? Is this personal? If I had stayed awake, would Lee have pulled his arm away from Furcal in time, and would the Cubs have gone on to lead the division at the All-Star Break?

And if it's my fault, how much of this has been my fault? How far back are the sins for which I must atone?

If we turn back the clock, there was 2002, one of the most brutal seasons one can imagine. Loss after loss, to the tune of 95 in all. But did I give up? Just the opposite: I came back the next year as a fan with vengeance.

And of course there was 2003. I was in the stands that Game 6 of the NLCS. The Bartman game they call it, but it was a lot more than that. Section 218 row 23, above the aisle on the third base side of home plate. I was there the night we all rode astride that wave only to feel it collapse underneath us before its time.

I thought you were just trying my patience. I wasn’t falling for it, either. I had seen how close to ecstasy this game could bring me, and I wasn’t going to pretend like that whiff of perfection didn’t happen.

Then, 2004, the season of record-breaking injuries. One after another after another. It was darn near too much to take. But did I give up?

Nope, back at it in 2005... only to watch Wood and Prior go down for the count again. And Nomar, the consummate hitter, a guy that hit over 3-freaking-70 one season, rehabbing a groin injury far away from town. Why did you even tease us? Why did you let the thought enter our heads that ’04 was just a season of bad luck, and ’05 would be it? Because in terms of wins, '05 was not only different, it was worse. They were under .500 for crying out loud.

So, OK, enough was supposed to be enough. The story had already started differently. You had your chance to make this right!

It occurs to me that maybe self pity and whining are like the silver party shirt I wore in college: a guy should pretty much get rid of things like that once he graduates because there’s no room to wear them in the real world. Silver shirts and self pity, at some point, become outgrown. Just let it be, man -- it ain't all about you.

Still, let me get back to a point that I cannot escape: this utterly blows. I mean, last season, despite all the complacency and lukewarm baseball we endured, there was still Derrek Lee beaconing for excellence. (Is beaconing a verb? Anyway,) He was worth all the hours we spent on this team, all by himself. It was the finest season by a Cub first baseman in my lifetime, if not any position, if not ever. Or, at least it was close enough.

And then you tease us with a 5-year contract extension... and we think, “You know, he hasn’t missed more than 7 games in any season – that means we get at least 775 games of that guy” ... and now: BAM! HA HA, SUCKER! DON’T YOU GET IT? IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN, CHUMP!

There is no justice or fairness in the world. One might as well be a nihilist, a Big-Lebowski-German-Loser character. Screw it all. Ain’t no point.

* * *But wait... Is this another test? Will this be the season after all, and you’re trying to sabotage it for me by tempting me to toss it aside? Is this the time for the tough to get going, or some other crap like that?

Because, I guess, I’m willing to keep watching. I’m willing to hang in there. I still feel like maybe, despite everything, this team could work it out.

Except back in the corner of my mind, I ask, Am I just a sucker, another time over?