Not really as much of a curmudgeon as my words have so far suggested, and certainly not at the age of 13, 1968 is also noteworthy for me because it was the year I became a baseball fan; and not just a baseball fan - a Cubs fan. In a weird convergence of anniversaries today is both the opening day for the Cubbies, over there in the “friendly confines” of Wrigley Field, and the 40th anniversary of Lyndon Johnson’s momentous “I will not run” speech.
Being a Cub fan in 1968 was to be as hopeful as being a young political activist was to be cynical. Maybe that’s why we found each other, the Cubbies and me. There was a fine and delicate balance between reality and fantasy, idealism and cynicism. Being a Cubs fan has immensely helped me deal with the almost eternal political gloom and doom of being (almost) ever on the losing side.
In the immortal words of Stevie Goodman, the Cubs are the perpetual “doormat of the National League,” a bad team. They were the bad team of bad teams, but something happened at the end of 1967. The Cubs actually got “good,” so good that even teenage girls had to take notice.
For $1.75 you could sit and bake in the left-field bleachers, have beer spilled on you, and generally have a great time (and build a great tan). The Cubs were the symbol of everything that was right about our country. As often as we could in 1968, and all through the next several years, we kept on hoping. We’d get on the “el,” get off at Addison, walk past bars and cigars, and get into the ballpark in time for batting practice. We’d harass the players for autographs. (I still have a scorecard covered with Cubbie signatures and one of some Cincinnati catcher named Johnny Bench - or something.) Yes, I was a left-field bleacher bum.
The Cubbies are what the Cubbies are, and for all of the hope and idealism that was projected by Kessinger, Becker, Williams, Santo, Banks, Hundley, Jenkins, Twiggy (the relief pitcher, not the model), Holtzman and the rest, hope became jaded cynicism that mirrored the rising prices and the endlessly World Series-less years in the 40 years that followed.
I celebrated opening day at Wrigley and Ernie Banks’ famous “let’s play two” philosophy, and commemorated that spring and summer 40 years ago that helped make me who and what I am today.
Article comments
1 - Houseguest
I really enjoyed this article, Barbara, and can empathize with both your political feelings & your "Cubbies" infatuation. For me, it was the Detroit Tigers, one particular 2nd baseman named Dick McAuliffe, and the joy of "my team" winning the '68 World Series. My love of baseball brought me closer to my grandfather (who I lived with, along with my Mom), and gave me something to talk about with my Dad, a former minor-leaguer, who I saw twice a year. To this day, I still love the Tigers, and even though their season opener was disappointing, I'll be rooting for Kenny Rogers (my current "Dick McAuliffe") to pitch the heck out of the Kansas City Royals today at Tiger Stadium.
2 - Barbara Barnett
Hi Houseguest. Glad you found my little nostalgic reverie. When it dawned on me Monday while watching the opening innings of the Cubs opener that it had been (astonishingly) 40 years since that fateful, strange, sad and pivotal (for the 13 year old me) spring, I had to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as it were). Thanks for you own rememberance.
Barbara