Redemption by David Spain

The 2004 baseball season was technically underway, but aside from gleeful spectators in some Far East country, only a few people were actually aware of the fact. Steinbrenner’s hobby and that other team from the sunshine state had split a series (a game a piece) and officially launched the year of the Chicago Cubs... or what I thought would be the year of the Chicago Cubs. That was, of course, before Mark Prior decided to change a dead light bulb in a vaulted ceiling – without using a ladder – straining his Achilles tendon.

Last season the Cubs worked Chicago into a fervor by applying a new strategy: winning. Strong pitching and timely hitting propelled them to National League Central champions. They added a little pepper by edging out the Atlanta Braves in the division championship series, 3 games to 2. And then infamy struck when a little wormy man who lived just miles away from Wrigley Field managed to launch himself into the annals of historical notoriety by turning the tide of the championship series against the Florida Marlins, essentially what had up until then been a mighty good ride for the Loveable Losers.

But alas, that was last year. What about this year? What are the millions of Chicago Cubs fans to do now that they’ve had a taste of victory, now that 30-games-back isn’t acceptable, now that we have a whole team to root for instead of one player and a big bat? We panic, we pine, we pontificate, of course.

Jim Hendry worked his magic again this off season and secured Derrick Lee, LaTroy Hawkins, and the ancient one, ex-Cub Greg Maddux, while adding some diversity at second base with Todd Walker. 2004 is set - our line-up is fortified and our ambitions lofty. "Experts" have the Cubs atop the Central just over the Astros, and some are even predicting a World Series bid, the seemingly forever elusive pot of gold at the end of the century-long rainbow of pain, suffering, and disappointment. 

It’s almost too much, too ideal a situation for a storybook ending, too primed for failure, which is unfortunately what the little voice in my head is succumbing to. But I press on, forcing myself to ignore the subconscious chants of Not This Year, Not This Year.

Looking back, the Cubs could have done more. They’re owned by the Tribune Company. This isn’t some Effingham, Illinois publication for a population of 5,000. This is a media giant and when free agents like Ivan Rodriguez and Miguel Tejada hit the market, the Cubs just balked. Now we’re left with Michael Barrett and Alex Gonzalez and a small sense of regret. Now it’s up to our pitching staff to deliver us like Moses unto the Jews, only the good shepherd didn’t make the trip to Cincinnati because his heel is a bit tender.

The weight of the entire season rests on the shoulders of one man and he’s nursing a bum hoof. It scares me to think that the Cubs' chances lie with Mark Prior, but they do. He’s the key to gates of Xanadu and the real ace of this pitching staff. Worst case scenario: the injury lingers and we miss 20 wins as a result.

I’d like to think in practical terms, wish Prior a speedy recovery, and urge him not to hurry back; we’ll be alright without him. Then again, I grew up playing hockey (the best sport on the planet, mind you), so I’m not exactly sympathetic when athletes sit out because of injuries. For inspiration one need look no further than my idol Jeremy Roenick, who’s back on the ice, missing only six weeks after shattering his jaw.

However impractical it may be, my advice to Prior is to just put some Icy Hot on that shit and get on the mound. After all, the season of redemption is waiting.

Cubs in 2004... I hope.

---
David Spain lives and writes in Chicago, Illinois. He'll be rooting incessantly for the Cubs in 2004.