With pitchers and catchers reporting for their first workout on Thursday, spring is in sight, regardless of what Punxatawny Phil may have said a couple of weeks ago. And so it seemed an appropriate time to post this.
In the various recaps of the highlights, and lowlights, of the Chicago sports scene for the last decade, the sixth game of the 2003 National League Championship Series figured prominently. You remember the game. The Cubs were leading the Marlins in the series, three games to two. The Cubs were leading the game, 3 to 0. And then the eighth inning happened. The Cubs were five outs away from the World Series (three outs closer than in 1984), but the Marlins got eight runs and won the game. And they won the series the next night.
But the Cubs lost more than a game, and more than a chance to go to the World Series, that night. They lost part of what used to make Wrigley Field and Cubs fans so special.
While looking through some old files, I found a review of Season Ticket, a book by Roger Angell. The review, from the Chicago Tribune (March 6, 1988), was written by Mark Harris, himself a noted author of baseball books, including Bang the Drum Slowly. What caught my eye was this:
"He [Angell] writes with respect of every player he mentions, making the game larger than winning and losing, bigger than persons or teams, a triumph of art and grace most distinguished at that very site – Wrigley Field – where, from the point of view of winning, the locals would seem to have succeeded the least. The fans have compensated for simple disappointment with the higher pleasure of larger understanding. An Oakland baseball executive said to Angell, ‘For some reason, there’s a different perspective at Wrigley Field – a clearer understanding of failure as a consistent part of baseball. Because ball teams play every day, the chances for failure are always high, but the Cubs fans somehow understand that. It’s a higher level of baseball culture. I think that’s the model we should be striving for.’"
That is the way it used to be at Wrigley Field. I remember the playoffs in 1998 against the Atlanta Braves. The Braves had cruised to the playoffs that year, winning 106 games and winning the National League East by 18 games. The Cubs had been in a dogfight with the New York Mets (need I say "the hated Mets") since the beginning of August for the Wild Card spot. For two months the Cubs and the Mets were never separated by more than one game. Then in September the San Francisco Giants made their move. The Cubs lost six of their last eight games. The Mets lost their last five in a row. When the Cubs lost their last game of the season, in extra innings, in Houston, the season seemed over. After 4½ innings, the Giants had a 7 to 0 lead over the Rockies. But they were playing in Colorado, and within 90 seconds of the Cubs loss to the Astros, the news flashed on the TV screen: Neifi Perez of the Rockies had hit a home run in the bottom of the ninth. The Giants lost! There would be a playoff game in Chicago the next day. And the Cubs won it, 5 to 3. The Cubs had won the Wild Card, and they were going to the playoffs!
Things did not go well in the playoffs. The Braves won the first game, which was in Atlanta, 7 to 1. The next game was also in Atlanta. The Cubs were leading 1 to 0, and it looked like we might just have a chance to even-up the series until Kevin Tapani, who was pitching his heart out, left one over the middle of the plate to Javy Lopez in the bottom of the ninth. Lopez hit a home run to tie the game, and the Braves won it in the tenth.
So it was back to Chicago for game three. Greg Maddux was going for the Braves. Kerry Wood, who had been sidelined since August 31 with a sore arm, was pitching for the Cubs. When Kerry left, after five innings, the score was Braves 1, Cubs 0. (Maddux had scored in the third inning on a wild pitch.) The score stayed 1 to 0 until eighth, when the Braves broke the game open with five runs. The Cubs got the tying run to the plate in the bottom of the inning, but it wasn’t to be. The Braves won, 6 to 2. The Braves celebrated on the field, and then it was over. Except it wasn’t. The Cubs had lost, but it was still a great season. A bunch of old guys and a flame-throwing rookie had done better than anybody expected, and the Cubs had won the Wild Card. Sammy hit 66, Kerry struck out 20, and there were exciting games all summer and into the fall. And even though the Cubs had lost, and the Braves had celebrated, the fans didn’t leave. We stayed, especially those of us in the upper deck grandstand, and after the Braves had left the field, we cheered. Because it was a good year. And when the Cubs players came back onto the field, we cheered some more.
But that is not the way it is anymore. For several reasons. Player salaries are up big time, so people expect more. After all, if somebody is making zillions of dollars, shouldn’t they get a hit every time up or strike out every batter? (The fact that the opposing players are also making zillions of dollars and are supposed to do the same thing does create a bit of a problem, but fans aren’t always logical.)
Ticket prices are up, too, which has had a couple of effects. First, just like with higher salaries, with higher ticket prices, people expect more. But more importantly, higher prices have resulted in different people coming to the games. Some of the old fans can’t afford it anymore. And the people who can afford the tickets are not fans in the old way. They are the people who go where the teams are winning. (If you win, they will come.)*
Also, after having come so close in 2003, it seems that anything less than winning all the time has become boo-worthy for some people.
The combination of all of these has changed the mood at Wrigley Field. Wrigley Field used to be a great place to play ball. Now it is becoming an ugly place at times, where it’s the Cubs players who are booed, instead of the opponents. We are even getting compared to Philadelphia, for pete’s sake.
Some will say that people like me are the problem with the Cubs. I’ll go to games no matter what, so the owners don’t have to win. If they can make money, even if the Cubs lose, they don’t have to try. (I know this is what they will say because those were some of the responses to a letter to the editor I wrote back in October of 2006.)
This is nothing that we can do about the changes at Wrigley Field. Things change, and what has happened at Wrigley Field is one of those things. Wrigley Field is still a special place. The sad thing is that it used to be even more special. But at least that is what memories are for.
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* You really can’t blame the Cubs for raising the prices. If people will pay higher prices, the team would be foolish to not charge more. Even if the Cubs didn’t charge more, the prices would still be as high. It would just be the scalpers and the ticket brokers getting the extra money.
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