The Last Inning

It was the seventh game in the world series tonight, and since I now call the city of Chicago home, I thought it was my duty to at least watch one game.

Now, the Chicago Cubs have been underdogs for 108 years. (And we think we have it bad!) Yup, that’s right, they haven’t won the world series since 1908. Generations have come and gone in the city of Chicago without their baseball team finding victory.

So, I mean, no pressure.

Now, I’m definitely not qualified to speak intelligently on the topic of sports, but as I attempted to follow along, I watched as the score went from 6 to 3, with the Cubs in the lead, to a surprise 3 runs from Cleveland. For the next couple innings the looks on the faces from those in the stadium witnessing this gridlock 6 to 6 score looked like they were being tortured.

As the camera scanned the crowd, men had their heads buried in their baseball hats, young kids were tugging on their dad’s shirt asking what they thought was going to happen, and women were feverishly biting their nails.

I couldn’t help but laugh! I thought, who signs up for this torture!?

There is this journey that the game of baseball took millions of people on tonight, and there was no predicting what the final outcome would be. We could only grit down and watch with one eye open, hoping that the team we pledged allegiance to would bring it home.

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