Love Hurts

Northside of Chi-Town is full of emotion.
In the ‘45 Series Cubs and Tigers are battling.
Sianis buys two tickets to show his devotion.
Is booted ‘cause his billy goat won’t stop bahbling.
He curses the Cubbies and causes a commotion.
But spring is rooted in fans' love and devotion
Like lush, green, yellow, crimson, ivy will never
Stop growing. Year after year fans fear
Hearts will shatter but remain forever
Faithful chanting “Wait ‘til next year!”
Generations grow up cheering with great emotion.
Generations grow old enduring gut-wrenching loss 
Bleeding among Lovable Losers time
And again, but no Cubbie faithful dares cross
To the Southside—it’d be a traitorous crime.
In 2003, faithful fans’ love and devotion
Promises fruition as Dusty Baker 
Arrives Northside heralded as the Cubs’ savior.
But NLCS Game 6 at Wrigley is a heartbreaker.
Cubs need five outs but collide with a traitor.
Steve Bartman’s still in hiding; his name elicits emotion. 
Castillo’s bat aims grenade over foul territory.
Cubs’ fielder Alou springs towards the heavens to snatch
But when feet touch dirt Cubs land in purgatory.
Faithful gasp: Curse of the Billy Goat sets a rematch.
Since that fateful day in ‘45 exploding with emotion 
Wrigley hasn’t seen another World Series.
Since Bartman's affair in 2003, Cubs haven’t won 
A playoff series. But Billygoat yaks to Mrs. O’Leary’s 
Ol’ Cow an’ scoffs at the new scapegoat’s unearned run.
In 2011, after 91-losses, Ricketts proves his devotion
Adding the sabermetrics guru who now values emotions.
Epstein arrives at Northside championing human connections
Rebuilds Cubs’ roster with players who reverse the motion
108-years and character solves equation for a winners’ resurrection.
Hearts ripping open is a crushing emotion
But fans never stopped believin' in near 
Foreseeable future ‘cause they’re loyal
Lovers and nothin’s as good as baseball ‘n’ beer 
At Wrigley for 81 games on your own home soil.


My father loved his baseball, he said, “One day you will see,

how baseball is a lot like life…come…sit…and watch with me.”


He said, “When it’s your turn to bat…you do not know your fate.”

“You take a couple practice swings…and step up to the plate.”


“You’re ready…but a little nervous, as you hear the catcher pound the mitt.”

“Will you make an out this time…or will you get a hit.”


“And sometimes you get that hit…and sometimes you make an out.”

“For that, my son, is what baseball…and life are all about.”


“But the wonderful thing about life and baseball…is no matter how you do,

the next time you come up to bat…I’ll still root for you.”


As I watched my granddaughter play softball yesterday,

I had to smile as my childhood and adulthood met…

It seems my father gets much smarter


the older that I get.

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