Oct 01 2008
A Dodger Is Born
From 1946 through 1966, the Chicago Cubs epitomized ineptitude. At one point, they tried to obliterate their hapless streak with creativity by replacing the conventional manager with a college of coaches. The idea was to expose players to eight coaches specializing in specific aspects of the game. Four coached the Cubs, while the rest were assigned to the minor league affiliates, all rotating as head coaches. They were overseen by an athletic director who coordinated their tasks.
Misguided is a generous term to describe this debacle.
Apparently the structure created more conflict than cooperation among coaches and players, especially when each coach simultaneously fought to act as leader. The concept was abandoned after the Cubs finished the 1962 season in ninth place, with a 59-103 record, 42.5 games behind the league champion San Francisco Giants, and six games behind the expansion Houston Colt .45s.
The 1969 season was the apex for core members of a Cubs team which remained consistent from 1967 through 1972. Excluding 1969, they proved to be slightly better than a .500 team, averaging 83 wins per season—good enough for a contender, but not a division winner. One key problem was their penchant for lengthy winning and losing streaks virtually of equal length, leaving them, in the end, on a trip to nowhere.
The 1969 Cubs, however, established a new legacy. They replaced fan expectation of another losing season in the second division with a bona fide contender destined for failure. Regardless of how well the team performed during any part of the season, expectations something ruinous would happen abounded. Even an eight and one-half game lead left fans feeling hopeful, but insecure.
Anxieties entered a protracted hiatus during the 1973 season. Despite leading the N.L. East by eight and one-half games on June 29th, the Cubs slipped into second place three weeks later. An 11-game losing streak wrote finish to their first sub-.500 season since 1966.
The pending doom mentality continues haunting the team to date. Its significance was reinforced during the 1984 and 2003 National League Championship Series, when inevitable trips to the World Series were thwarted by a Cubbie incarnation of manifest destiny.
By finishing the season atop the standings for the first time since 1945, the 1984 Cubs surprised everyone in Major League Baseball, as well as fans throughout the world–especially considering their 7 win, 20 loss Cactus League record. The Tribune Co. had purchased the team from the Wrigley family in 1981, and hired former Philadelphia Phillies manager Dallas Green as general manager. Green acquired key veterans from his 1980 World Champion Phillies team to inject a winning attitude.
Ryne Sandberg, a young second baseman also from the Phillies organization, became a bona fide leader. His memorable performance during a nationally televised game against the St. Louis Cardinals in June became the metaphor for the Cubs’ season. With the Cubs trailing 9-8 in the bottom of the ninth, Sandberg, facing Bruce Sutter, the league’s top relief pitcher, hit a home run to tie the game. In the 10th, after the Cardinals scored two runs, Sandberg again homered with a man on first, tying the game. In the 11th, the Cubs won on a bases loaded single. Sandberg ultimately won the 1984 National League Most Valuable Player award.
In the National League Championship Series, the Cubs faced the San Diego Padres, first-time winners of the West Division. The Cubs overpowered the Padres in Game One, 13-0, then won the second game, 4-2. One more win would send them to the World Series.
The final three games were scheduled to be played in San Diego’s Jack Murphy Stadium. Padres starting pitcher Ed Whitson stifled the Cubs offense in the third game, winning 7-1. The next night, the teams were tied, 5-5, in the bottom of the ninth. With one out, Padres rightfielder Tony Gwynn singled to center. First baseman Steve Garvey then followed with a two-run home run to tie the series at two games apiece.
With a distinct shift in momentum, deja vu suddenly engulfed rabid Cubs fans. The Cubs jumped to a 3-0 win in the first two innings of Game Five. Pitcher Rick Sutcliffe held the Padres scoreless through the fifth. After scoring two runs in the sixth, the San Diego crowd became rejuvenated. In the bottom of the seventh, with the Cubs still leading, 3-2, and a runner on second, Padres second baseman Tim Flannery hit a sharp ground ball to first baseman Leon Durham. The ball shot under Durham’s mitt and between his legs for an error; the runner on second scored to tie the game. Before the inning ended, the Padres scored four runs to take a 6-3 lead. Their relievers held the Cubs scoreless in the eight and ninth, giving the team its first National League pennant.
Reactions published the following day were indicative of Cub psychology. The 1984 team simply became the modern symbol of doom affixed to the 1969 team for 25 years.
“So much for 1969. Those collapsible Cubs are forever off the hook, replaced by a newer, even more beguiling bunch. Never has a team come more tantalizingly close to a National League pennant and not won it as these Cubs of 1984. After 39 years of unfulfilled hope, this unfulfilled club remains destiny’s doormat. Now more than ever….It wasn’t the lack of confidence that doomed Chicago, just the demonic powers of the evil spirits that lurk inside that smiling Cubs logo.” [Bruce Schoenfeld, Stoic Cubs Take Their Place Beside Might-Have-Beens, San Diego: San Diego Union, October 8, 1984, Sec. D, Page 9, Col. 1.]
Simultaneously sad and fascinating are fans’ resignations that being a Cub fan means accepting inevitable despair.
“If the Cubs had won, they would have lost their mystique,” (a Chicago cab driver) said. “It’s like (Chicago Tribune columnist Mike) Royko wrote. Cub fans are meant to suffer.” [Chris Jenkins, Cub Fans Bounce Back Easily from Disappointments, San Diego: San Diego Union, October 8, 1984, Sec. D, Page 8, Col. 1.]
Suffer. Like relics from Anatevka.
The 1969 and San Diego disasters haunted the 2003 Cubs, needing five outs to end their futility. They began the postseason beating the Atlanta Braves, three games to two, in the National League Division Series, their first postseason series victory since 1908. Their opponent in the championship series was the Florida Marlins, winner of the N.L. wild card. With home field advantage in the best-of-seven series, the Cubs were favored to win, doom potential notwithstanding.
They were on track to prove the pundits right, taking a 3-1 lead over the Marlins. After being shut out on two hits by
Florida starter Josh Beckett, the Cubs headed home needing one win to face the New York Yankees in the World Series.
Cub fans were confident the team would capture one of the remaining two games behind the team’s premier starting pitchers, Mark Prior and Kerry Wood. As Game Six progressed, Chicagoans grew confident they would spend the next weekend gleefully sauntering through the Bronx. Yet, my intuition suggested their relentless fear of pending doom was pervasive.
Prior sailed through eight and one-third innings with a 3-0 lead. With one out in the eighth, Marlin centerfielder Juan Pierre doubled. The next batter, second baseman Luis Castillo, hit a fly ball into foul territory above the crowd behind the Cubs’ bullpen. Several fans and Cubs leftfielder Moises Alou, tried to catch it. When one of the fans bobbled the ball, an irate Alou, certain he could have made the catch, slammed his mitt on the field. Prior also was visibly upset. Despite the Cubs’ protests, umpires refused to call fan interference.
My cousin phoned as the scenario unfolded. Being a veteran of Cubs doom, I told her she was about to witness a classic unraveling. Aided by shortstop Alex Gonzalez’ error, the Marlins scored eight runs to win the game. Meanwhile, the man blamed for instigating the disaster was escorted by security out of the park, as fans tossed debris and verbal assaults at him. The Marlins defeated Wood in Game 7, then trounced the Yankees to win their second World Series.
Personal moral of this story: When escapism breeds despair it enhances the pain created by reality. As a child, I lived with constant pending doom of an abusive alcoholic father who became a verbal assault machine due to an innocent provocation. The Cubs were a continuum within that world. They would win; life would be great…until something destructive happened.
During my first visit to Los Angeles, in 1970, I attended my first game at Dodger Stadium. I was struck by its magnificence. The sunset over the San Gabriel mountains was breathtaking. The idiosynchratic décor gave the stadium its charm. Palm trees in the bullpens. Geometric shaped scoreboard and message board. Grilled Dodger Dogs. The multi-colored tiers. And the buzz of Vin Scully’s play-by-play from the thousands of transistor radios among the crowd. That was escapism.
A Dodger fan was born.
My first Dodger game was on August 24, 1970. The Cubs, behind Ferguson Jenkins, beat the Dodgers and their starter, Sandy Vance, 4-2. During the seventh inning, my mom bought my first Dodger jacket. I wore it religiously. My first favorite player was Wes Parker. My all-time favorite player is Steve Sax. Since I’ve been a fan, the Dodgers have won ten West division titles, two wild card races, five National League pennants and two World Series. I was fortunate to be among the crowd when Kirk Gibson hit his game winning home run in Game One of the 1988 World Series.
I still root for the Cubs, but I bleed Dodger blue.
BIBLIOGRAPHY:
Jenkins, Chris, Cub Fans Bounce Back Easily from Disappointments, San Diego: San Diego Union, October 8, 1984, Sec. D, Page 8, Col. 1.
Schoenfeld, Bruce, Stoic Cubs Take Their Place Beside Might-Have-Beens, San Diego: San Diego Union, October 8, 1984, Sec. D, Page 9, Col. 1.
Retrosheet.org
NEXT: National League Division Series: Dodgers vs. Cubs.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Not A Member? Register for Free!
