In every sport, from football to beach volleyball, there is a requirement not just to be good, but to be great: hunger. You can have a team packed with Hall-of-Famers and still never win the championship. Case in point: The U.S. Olympic basketball team, a team composed of some of the greatest athletes in the world, but so complacent, they couldn't beat teams inferior in talent, but superior in drive. The real surprise was not that they only received a bronze medal, or even that they received a medal at all, but that fans actually expected them to win without trying.
In every sport, there are two types of groups worth mentioning. The so-called "Cinderella teams," those who were not expected to perform very well but through a combination of team effort, luck, and hunger, surprise everyone. These teams rarely win a championship, but their efforts generate attention and excitement for those who love underdogs and sports fans in general.
Then there are their opposities, those teams with that curse called "infinite potential," but for various reasons never live up to it. My favorite NFL team, the Kansas City Chiefs, had one of the best won-loss records in the 1990's, yet never reached a Super Bowl during the decade. They were good, but fed by illusions of Super Bowl glory, allowed themselves to be dominated by those more willing to work for a championship than fantasize about it.
And there there are the Chicago Cubs. Predicted by many sports writers to reach the World Series this season, the Cubs are currently in third place, hanging on to the possibility of a wild-card berth. Of all the playoff-caliber teams, the Cubs were blessed with the easiest September schedule, yet cannot defeat last-place teams like the Montreal Expos, whom they lost two of three to this week. Although still in the playoff race, the Cubs, unlike last season, have become listless and tired. Sure, they've been hit with plenty of injuries this season, but ultimately, that's no excuse. The great teams shrug off injuries. Worst of all, the Cubs aren't hungry.
The blame for this lack of "hunger" cannot be laid upon the Cubs alone. Much of it can be placed on Chicago itself, who are so used to a losing team, it's considered a tradition. The Cubs, no matter how badly they play, will always be loved. They will sell out their games. They will have the support of the much of the city no matter what. That's why the team isn't hungry: if you can go nearly a century without winning a championship and *still* be widely loved, why try? Besides, losing sports teams is a cherished Chicago tradition. The Bulls may have had their time in the NBA sun, the Bears had their Super Bowl trophy, but overall Chicago is a city of bad teams, and that's the way the population likes it. Why mess with tradition?
Of course the Girlfriend and I will cheer the Cubs on next Wednesday when we see them play the Pirates, but we're going to cheer for them to win, not because they're the Cubs. Sad to say, we'll probably be in the minority at Wrigley.