Tonight, the wheel of dukkha
Has rolled over my heart...
Again.
I know I should see this as part of life's comings and goings, but this has been going since my grandparents were in swaddling clothes. I can't begin to make sense of the giant knife switch that gets pulled to "Off" at some point during the post-season (unfortunately, it's been right at the beginning of the post season, lately).
I cannot make sense of a Cy Young winner and MVP and Manager of the Year unable to win 1 of 3 in 1984. I cannot make sense of a muffed double play by a golden glove shortstop in 2003. I cannot make sense of the bats drying up two post-seasons in a row in 2007-8. I cannot make sense of 100 years of futility at our expense.
What I do know is this:
Whatever powers there be in this universe, they hate the Cubs and their fans. We are born to suffer and die and pass the legacy of pain on to our scion. We are the diaspora, scattered far and wide... You of devotion to other teams: Look around - we fill your stadiums. Yet, we can never win. We have our hopes raised in holy cow hosanna, only to have them dashed before us like the Bartman ball incinerated at Harry's.
I, for one, quit you baseball. I quit you like an abusive spouse. I simply cannot take it anymore. I will not pass this emotional cancer on to my children.
A side note to Derek Lee: You acquitted yourself well. I hope you go on to further success somewhere, only I will not be watching.