Rain, Rain Go Away...We Don't Want a Rain Delay!

No, seriously.  If God was trying to make a statement to delay the Cubs Home Opener, he is certainly speaking loud and clear.   

Unfortunately, I am in the bleachers today but I can tough it out. 

The problem? I have to be at work by 3:15 pm. The question?  Can and should I go into the game and try to get in at least 5 innings? This rain is making it a race against time.   Ok, I will post a picture of a Holy Cow Cubs Shrine.  Send prayers, wishes and general good vibes so this girl can get in this game!!! 

Off to Yak-Zie's to wait this one out...Fingers crossed, rosaries on!  

Opening Day Euphoria

The Chicago Cubs' Home Opener is finally here.   Finally....

I say, 'finally' because it is torturous to have a week's worth of baseball without opening Wrigley Field.   The bars are empty.  The tourists have, yet, to arrive, and there is a general hush over the neighborhood- a freakish silence that is just wrong during the regular season. 

Thankfully, the real opening day is only hours away.  It is like the anticipation of Christmas, birthdays and summers all packed into one day of playing hooky from work and heading to the bleachers. 

By 10am, we will be making our way to Yak-Zie's on Clark and then, heading to our bleacher seats by 12:30pm.  Given the anticipated rain and cold weather, we have already laid out the winter rain gear which looks strangely likes our Bears gear but whose going to judge? 

If you are ambitious, ESPN's Mike and Mike is kicking the morning off by broadcasting from Murphy's starting at 5am.  But, its a long season; I have to pace myself.   

Talk Derby to Me...a Night with the Windy City Rollers

So a few years back, a woman, who I shall call Helsa Wayton, invited a humble ice skater, Niki Van CleaverYourHead, to make the jump to roller derby skating. As you may have guessed, I am "Niki VanCleaverYourHead," but I've never made it to a Bout. Sure, I can tear it up on the ice rink, but could I roll and elbow my way to roller girl fame? I wasn't sure I could cut it.

As a consolation prize, I decided to make my way to the UIC Pavilion to finally check out the "Windy City Roller's" - Chicago's only roller derby league. I brought along Andrew and two other friends so I would have a mini-focus group to ask: could I cut it out there?

The night consisted of two "Bouts": Double Crossers vs. The Fury and Manic Attackers vs. Hell's Belles. I always envisioned myself skating as a "Jammer" - the quick, agile skater that weaves around and under the legs of all the big-ass-blockers... that is until I realized that a jammer could find herself elbowed in the teeth or tripped and thrown out of the rink...head first. I also saw a fine blocker, on defense for the Double Crossers named, Sassy Squash. She soared a whopping 7 feet tall and was wide...very wide.

A couple of friends have warned me that I am too cute to skate with the big gals on the Windy City Rollers. I was offended that they didn't think I was tough enough to make it on a team. After seeing the women of the Windy City Rollers tear it up, I may have to agree with my friends. I value my teeth...my nose too. So, I've decided to put my dreams of derby fame aside and just be a fan.

I bought a tee shirt instead.

So, go to a bout or two, and figure it out for yourself; could you out-skate Ruth Enasia, Blossom Bruiso or Carnage Wilson? The only question you need to ask yourself is: how much do you value your teeth?

Winter Classic at Wrigley Field

The NHL may have given sports fans everywhere a new New Year's Day tradition: the Winter Classic.  In its second year, Chicago fans were in a euphoric state about the Winter Classic at Wrigley Field on the first day of 2009.  What can be more blissful than bringing two classic hockey teams- The Hawks and Red Wings- to the nations most nostalgic stadium- Wrigley Field?  

After watching the NHL assemble the ice rink piece-by-piece through the opening in left field, I was more than happy to call it an early night on New Year's Eve for the possibility of waking up early on New Year's Day for breakfast, Bloody Mary's and a game of Corn Hole in January.  There is something awesome about the novelty of importing a summer tradition for one day in winter, just to celebrate another sport played at Wrigley Field.

Since Andrew was fortunate enough to get a ticket to the game through our friend Mike, I relied on Andrew to get me a single to get into the game.  In a weird twist of fate that I believe can be summed up as good 'fan karma,' I found myself with a $75 ticket a few rows from the third base line with a perfect, up-close view of the rink.  (Andrew has a more detailed account of how he got the ticket but again, to me, it is just good sports fan karma).  This vantage point gave me the euphoric high of watching my Hawks in my favorite park as though I was at a high school hockey game....ah, the bliss, the sweet bliss.  

Now, not to be elitist, but here is my recommendation to the NHL:  

You have a great thing in the Winter Classic.  Leave it just for the Original Six and keep it a New Year's Day tradition. Sorry, but I'm a traditionalist.  Fans are actually excited about hockey again, and there is something about outdoor hockey that takes the players and the fans back to simple...hockey on a pond. 

A World Series Crisis of Identity

With my hopes and realities of a Cubs World Series crushed, I found myself in a unique position to make the best out of a bad season.

In visiting my family in Florida, we were only a 2-hour drive away from Game 2 of the World Series. With tickets only $10 dollars above face value, you didn't have to twist my arm to go. Yet, I had this strange pang of guilt; the Series was being wasted on an expansion team like the Rays and that was an insult to Cubs fans and fans of classic teams everywhere.

Sure, you expansion team fans may disagree with me on this one, but let's be real: no one wants to see the Marlins, Rockies, Rays or any other two-bit team in the Series...even MLB. It is only when these teams do well that their own fans actually come out of the woodwork to see the spectacle- pretending that they have been there all season long. Well, no one is fooled.

We got into the stadium early and it was utter chaos. People shoulder to shoulder. Concession lines stretching far into the concourse and fan "traffic jams" and bottlenecks were everywhere. We actually stood in line to get on the escalator. I was wondering how a stadium so big could be in such a state of disarray, but then I realized that this must of been one of the few times the team has ever saw this level of attendance. By the time we got to the seats, we were exhausted, hot and pissed.

But, once the game started, it was all the more apparent that Rays fans are as confused and messed up as the crowds of people trying to get to their seats. The team formerly known as the Devil Rays are now represented by a gigantic star with "Rays." The symbol is painted onto the grass and folks have puffy hands with these lone-star-looking symbols that is probably in reference to the sun's rays but fans didn't seem to know. Then, there are the "devil rays" that are lingering around the stadium. In fact, there is a whole tank of these fish that are still a type of mascot. In addition, there is the crazy "official" mascot, Raymond, who is some "SouthPaw"-looking furry thing. Finally, the fans themselves have a love affair with shaving mohawks on their head- another symbol all over the park.

Then... there is the cowbell nonsense. The cowbell is in reference to Will Ferrell's SNL skit-asking for "more cowbell." What was supposed to be a rally call is now another unofficial mascot stunt with fans playing cowbells all game long and people dressed as cows.

With this whole hodgepodge of fan fun, a game at Tropicana Field is both a circus of nonsense and a crisis of identity. Sure, this World Series game was a discount but it was not a sufficient consolation prize for any real baseball fan. The Rays sure are trying but there might be such a thing as trying a little too hard.

RIP Chicago Cubs 2008...A Letter from a very OLD Man

I have a lot of pressure to comment on the the sweep of the Chicago Cubs in the playoffs. In the past few days, after escaping from my self-imposed hibernation, people have hugged me, apologized and offered their polite condolences. They have also been egging me on for some kind of commentary- perhaps a eulogy to the 2008 Chicago Cubs.

I find that there are not many words that can do justice to this crushing loss - although given the shrine at the bleacher entrance of Wrigley Field, I am not alone in coming to terms with the shocking death of the Chicago Cubs' season. On Sunday, I stood at this memorial for meaning and comfort but mostly, I just sensed anger, torn signs and empty beer cans. For some reason, this loss feels different and more personal than years past.

In years past, Cubs fans felt lucky to be in the playoffs so any win was a lucky bonus and any loss was a bit expected. Again, the Cubs were just happy to be there. This year, with talent, luck and a season going our way, Cubs fans hopes were raised higher than ever before only to be dropped to the depths of despair.

On a personal level, it is hard to comment on the emotional toll of this loss. There is anger, sadness and disappointment and no, you can't go to counseling for this stuff. But, to capture the pain and anger of a Cubs loss, I thought that I would publish a note from a very OLD Cubs fans who has been waiting a very long time for a Cubs World Series. This is a picture of Andrew's Pop-Pop during the regular season. He is 86 years old and was optimistic for the post-season. You can see the joy and happiness in his face outside of Wrigley and posing next to his Cubs paver that reads "#1 Pop Pop, #1 Cubs Fan." Now, read the following email that I received just a few days ago.

Dear Andrew and Nicole - tx for note. The straw has now broken the camel's back - the Cubs no longer exist. Just a bunch of bums. How could they be so bad? I hope the air around your house was not poisoned.
Love, Pop-Pop and Poppy

You don't even want to see the new, angrier picture of dear ole' Pop Pop.

Cubs, you have done it again. You have broken the hearts of your loyal fans and in our sick codependency, we come back for more every year. Thanks for the pleasure and the sadistic pain of watching you play.

RIP Chicago Cubs 2008...may you rot with the Bartmans, Black Cats and Goats of our past.

Black Cats, Broken Mirrors and Walking Under Ladders

I didn't want to post this before the first game of the playoffs but I have a confession to make. I felt a small shift in fate and luck in the Neighborhood the night before the playoffs. My prevoius post was on the "luck" of running into the Dodgers as they arrived in Chicago. I got a picture with former Cubs, Juan Pierre and got to see other Major League greats like Nomar, Manny and Kemp. What I didn't talk about was a weird moment that was almost like something out of the movie, The Ring.

I took this picture two times with Matt Kemp and all I got was this messed-up, blurry and cursed image. As a very superstitious Cubs fan, I tried to block it out of my mind but I was a woman obsessed. I went to sleep with a heavy heart-feeling guilty that I tempted the fates and even touched a Dodgers. Kemp's bad luck hex rubbed off on me and I was scared.

Yesterday before the game, I tried to keep my wits about me. I grabbed all the Cubs security items that I have: My favorite hat and rally cap. My ratty radio and headphones. My puffy hand. Then, it started...a button broke off of my hat, my radio went missing and in trying to get to the game, I left my Cubs puffy hand on the floor.

We all know how the game turned out and my lofty notions of five weeks in baseball heaven may turn into a week or so of baseball hell.

So, I urge all Cubs fans to help me out on this one. It is time to temp the fates and thumb our nose at superstitions. Today, I am breaking mirrors, walking under ladders and hugging black cats. I am bringing a fresh rally cap to the game. I am changing my Cubs sweatshirt and changing seats with Andrew. I will not be a prisoner of "luck" or hexes or goats or Bartmans.

Instead, I am wiping our karma clean and saying a prayer to St. Anthony who is the patron saint of lost things...who perhaps is the best way of getting back our regular season magic.

Here it goes: "Tony Tony Come Around...Something's lost, and can't be found...." Since I can't fill the Cubs' Gatorade coolers with Holy Water and they have already blessed the dugout by a priest, I must wait it out tonight and hope for the best. Let's just hope that Zambrano and team is in on this karmic shift with me.