The year that still haunts me

2003 should have positive associations for me. It was the year that my younger daughter was born, and if there’s one thing in life I enjoy more than anything else, it’s being a dad. She’s going to become a teenager this summer, and looking at her now is a daily reminder that 2003–in human terms–was

September Redux

2015 is the year we’ve been waiting for, Cubs fans. So let’s dance!

Dancing in September

On September 1 (it’s actually September 2 as I’m typing this out, but work with me), I’m remembering a happy memory that happened during this month, several years ago. September was once a great and glorious month, and it all started on September 1. 2003 was the first year that Dusty Baker managed the Cubs.

A gesture we all know

I was nine years old when the 1978 baseball season started. One of the things I would do sometimes was look around the house for loose coins. A dime here, a nickel there, maybe a quarter under the couch. It seems kind of silly now, but that was fun for me back then. Whenever I

“Next year” never came for him

Today I went to an estate sale with a friend. I’ve written about them before, and being at one is different from going to a yard sale or a garage sale. As I get older, and realize that everyone’s time on this earth is limited, I also appreciate the opportunity to take a peek into

Forget about the goat

Before reading any further, I want you to think of an unlucky number. I’m willing to say that the default answer is the number 13. Absent some searing personal tragedy–like someone who lost their job on January 6 and now considers 16 to be unlucky–most people just accept that there’s something unfortunate attached to the

With Dusty we Busted

Back in 2003, Dusty Baker was a hot managerial commodity. He had managed the San Francisco Giants into the 2002 World Series, where his team lost to the Rally Monkey (and the Anaheim Angels, as they were then called) in seven games. The Giants had a 5-0 lead in Game six of that series, and

I can read his mind

Everybody knows about the  Vince Lombardi trophy  in football, given to the team that wins the Super Bowl each year. I remember the sad spectacle of how the trophy was groped and fondled as it was being carried to the NFL’s commissioner after the most recent Super Bowl. And the Stanley Cup, well, that goes

Now I understand

Since last September, I’ve been excited at the prospect of Theo Epstein coming to Chicago. I suggested that it happen almost immediately after the Red Sox collapsed in Baltimore on the final night of the regular season, and I’ve written about it here and here and here. And it’s always been with the assumption that

Hanu-Cubs, Night 6

We begin, as always, with the music of Steve Goodman. This is actually a remembrance piece about him, but it’s still worth a watch: The rotation so far (and with so many pitchers, that word seems appropriate) has been Dave Roberts, Sam Fuld (the only non-pitcher), Ken Holtzman, Jason Marquis, and Steve Stone. The only

Ahoy and good riddance

The word came down today, not from the player himself but through his agent, that Aramis Ramirez won’t be coming back to the Cubs. The actual term that his agent used was “that ship has sailed.” And that’s music to this Cubs fan’s ears. Ramirez first came to the Cubs in 2003–that year again–and unlike

Thoughts about Game Sevens past

Game time is almost here, and I wanted to get these out there before the first pitch. There hasn’t been a Game seven in the World Series since the Rally Monkey Angels beat Dusty Baker’s Giants back in 2002. The nine-year stretch without a Game seven is the longest in the history of the World

Don’t overlook that first game

Reliving ballgames from the past is a bit like watching Titantic and hoping the boat won’t sink. The boat’s always going to hit the iceberg, and panic is always going to ensue, and that band will always keep playing with the chaos around them. Watch it again and again if you like, but those things

Cubs should get the F in, and let the Q out

In the thanks for nothin’ department, the Red Sox let Tito Francona go today. Something about a collapse or something. I understand the frustration that must come with such a shocking finish, and I realize some heads had to roll. But Francona will go somewhere else, and he’ll likely make any team he signs with

The Buckner Surprise

At the end of tonight’s ESPN documentary Catching Hell, I found myself saying one simple word: No. To expand upon that, I offer the following instant analysis: No, I don’t see the connection between the Red Sox collapse in 1986 and the Cubs of 2003. For one thing, the Red Sox were at least in

One game, two historic acts

In the final games of every major league season, batting titles are won and lost. Playoff berths can be decided. And, as Doug Glanville has pointed out, many playing careers will come to an end. And, every so often, history is made. Such was the case on the final day of the 1977 season. On

Dusty left him in too long, twice

I’ll never forget the 2003 playoffs. The way it ended is something that I might never recover from. I’ve posted about that before in this space. But there are some good memories from it, too. I was scheduled to go to Atlanta on a business trip, and lo and behold, the Cubs were going to

Whatever it takes

I read an article online today about an interesting possibility that I had not considered. The article is here, but basically the idea is that if the Cubs hired Walt Jocketty, the former General Manager of the St. Louis Cardinals, he would in turn hire Tony LaRussa, who would convince Albert Pujols to sign as