Holy Cow

Hey, Hey, Holy Mackerel
No doubt about it
The Cubs on their way.
(Hey, Hey)

The Cubs are gonna hit today
They're gonna pitch today
They're gonna field today
Come what may, the Cubs are gonna win today.

We stayed home until the eighth inning. Boyo was tired, and we weren't sure just what the Cubs might do. Ordered a pizza and fixed our attention on the TV. It was when the two-run lead started looking solid that we thought, "We need to go out." Eighth inning and they were still...winning. Unreal, but tempered. Every bobble felt like a return to the Cubs we used to know. We skedaddled through very quiet neighborhoods to get to our little bar. No one was on the street, traffic was non-existent, and when the El passed overhead, it was completely empty. Got to the bar at the top of the ninth. And we were still...winning. Parked ourselves; got drinks. The waitress remembered us, which means we're regulars after only two visits. And then, we waited.

Poor boyfriend--he bore the brunt of my nervousness and gave me shoulders to squeeze when the tension got to be too much.

And then they won.

Excuse me--they WON! Everyone cheered, and clapped, and hooted, and hugged each other. Horns started honking outside. Unlike in the movies, the barman did not buy everyone a round. Maybe they're saving that for the Series. You know...the World Series.

I had warned my boyfriend I might cry, and I did. I figure it's deserved; the last time this happened, my great-grandmother was a teenager two years away from coming to America. It's like witnessing a comet.

We walked home giddy and still disbelieving. Happy music was coming out of all the bars. Traffic picked up as soon as the Cubs won, and about half the cars were honking. It was like New Year's, but warmer.

They got the hustle
They got the muscle
The Chicago Cubs have come to play
The Chicago Cubs are on their way.....