Saturday, October 18, 2003

I hate baseball. So I don't want any feel-good moments that might put the game in a favorable light. Considering all that, the playoffs really couldn't have gone any better.

The Florida Marlins' ongoing Cinderella story aside, all the dreams are officially dead, and in the most painful ways possible. From the moment Steve Bartman touched that foul ball until the instant Aaron Boone's home run touched down, the psyches of the Chicago and Boston faithful were ground into fine mulch by billy goats and Bambinos, but mostly by the constricted esophagi of the players on their own teams. It was great.

The Cubs and Red Sox choked. Both teams blew big leads with the pennant just a few outs away. The World Series was in their grasp, and they let go. It was great.

To blame a curse in either case is a bit medieval. But history obviously weighed heavily on the shoulders of the Cubs and Red Sox. The Cubs haven't won a World Series since 1908. The Red Sox haven't won a World Series since 1918. Even seasoned professional baseball players can't be blamed for flinching when they constantly hear that things are going to go wrong. It was great.

When Alex Gonzalez booted that ground ball in Game 6 of the NLCS, it was great.

When Grady Little allowed Pedro Martinez to pitch too long in Game 7 of the ALCS, it was great.

When Martinez grabbed ancient Don Zimmer by his huge, Sonny Liston-sized head and spiked it off the ground like he had just toted it into the end zone for a touchdown, it was great.

Hey, does anybody still think Jim Leyland should have used Tim Wakefield in relief during Game 7 of the Pirates-Atlanta NLCS in 1992?

I hate baseball so much that I've actually been rooting for the New York Yankees. What's good for the Evil Empire is bad for baseball.

For those who think I lack compassion, I have great sympathy for Steve Bartman, the poor schnook who kept the Cubs' Moises Alou from catching a foul ball in the eighth inning of Game 6 of the NLCS at Wrigley Field.

Bartman, by the way, was listening to the game on a radio headset when he touched the ball, so he heard play-by-play being done on his own life-altering moment. Now, that is cool.

Baseball pushes the communal aspect of its ballparks. It's just one happy family, right?

But when Bartman did what any fan in any park in any situation would have done and tried to catch the ball, his Wrigley Field "family" turned on him like he were a funny uncle. Bartman was cursed, doused with beer and spit upon in a disgusting display of immature, animalistic behavior.

Bartman did absolutely nothing wrong. He didn't reach onto the field to try to snatch the ball. The ball was in the stands, which is why fan interference wasn't called. Several other spectators grabbed at the ball simultaneously. Bartman just happened to be the guy who touched it.

Bartman inexplicably issued a weepy apology that did nothing but confirm his guilt in the eyes of many. To reiterate, Bartman did absolutely nothing wrong. So why apologize?

If anything, Bartman is owed an apology.

The "fans" at Wrigley Field owe Bartman an apology for treating him so shabbily.

The Chicago Sun-Times owes Bartman an apology for publishing his name, neighborhood and details of his personal life. The minute Bartman touched the ball, he became a news story, so the paper certainly had the right. But sometimes it's good to be human.

The radio talk-show hosts and DJs of Chicago owe Bartman an apology for whipping the city into a frenzy against him. Those who listen to my radio show know I'm not above much. But ruining the life of a citizen is something I could not, in good conscience, do. Unless he got me really angry.

Rod Blagojevich, the governor of Illinois, owes Bartman an apology for calling him "stupid" and for saying Bartman should consider the witness protection program. Shouldn't the governor try to make a bad situation better, not worse? The voters of Illinois should recall this jerk and elect Bill Murray. If you're going to have a buffoon as governor, you might as well hire a pro.

Baseball needs fans like Bartman. A youth baseball coach, Bartman is said to be absolutely addicted to the game and to the Cubs. Baseball needs to embrace Bartman, not chase him away. Chicago needs to do the same thing. Every Cubs fan should put himself/herself in Bartman's shoes.

When the Cubs open yet another season of frustration at Wrigley Field next season, Bartman should be the guy to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh-inning stretch. He should be introduced by Alou, who threw a hissy fit when Bartman prevented his catch but graciously cut Bartman slack in his postgame comments.

And if the Cubs' fans boo, they will be losers in a sense that goes far beyond baseball.

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