It's been more than 24 hours since the biggest, quickest and most pathetic letdown of my sports fan life, but the anger, pain and confusion are still as fresh as they
were when Alfonso Soriano ended the Cubs' World Series chances with a half-hearted half swing. (Give him some credit, though. I'm pretty sure it was the first pitch of
the NLDS that he actually tried to take.)

Unfortunately for all of us, we now have a painfully long
offseason to nurse our wounds and decide what can be done to make a team that won 97 games more successful in October.

But let's not think about the future just yet. Let's wallow
in self-pity and linger over the questions a bit longer. It's our Cub-given right.

I have only been around for a quarter of the lifetimes of
losing that the Cubs have inflicted on their fan base, but I think it could be reasonably argued that the last 25 years have been particularly painful, given the bait and switch routine the team
has pulled in 1984, 2003, 2007 and now 2008.

This was The Year. More than any other season thus far, I
had completely convinced myself of that fact. To stomp on the competition all season long and then go out in a sleep-walking whimper is both inexplicable and inexcusable. I wanted the Cubs to keep it surreal, but I guess I should have been more specific about the type of surreal that I wanted.

The series we just witnessed is not lovable losing. This
isn't the sort of thing you can blame on an overeager foul ball-seeking fan, a black cat, a goat, a curse or any other random Cubbie Occurrence. This is good old-fashioned choking--a word that has haunted me from the mouths of Cubs haters for decades, but is undeniably applicable right now.

After asking "Are We There Yet?" for 100 years, Cubs fans now have new questions to ponder: How could they do this to us? Where were the energy and the fire that this team has shown on so many occasions this year?
Why couldn't the Cubs get more than two hits in a row? Why didn't Reed Johnson play? Can we trade Fukudome and Soriano for some magic beans?

I've always been a firm believer in the idea of the True Cubs Fan, and this concept becomes even more important at times like these--when the wheels have fallen off the
bandwagon and the sound of thousands of people rushing for the exits is nearly deafening. It's not cool to be a Cubs fan right now, so most of the newbies are abandoning ship. "Hey, those White Sox are still in it! Let's get back on the Red Line and keep going South! Anybody want a free Cubs hat?"

Nevertheless, after the most talented Cubs team of my life
(or my Dad's life) gives the worst playoff performance imaginable, even the True Cubs Fans are probably fingering their Cubs fan ID card right now and
wondering why they put themselves through it every year. I've been wrestling with that demon since the botched double play in Game 2 and I still don't have an answer.

Being a Cubs fan is an addiction to an insidious drug that
offers its users the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. The lows always come at the end of the season though, so your Cubs withdrawal is so strong by the time spring training rolls around that you've forgiven Aramis Ramirez for
going 2 for 23 with zero RBIs in the '07 and '08 playoffs. Ryan Dempster gave up a grand slam to James Loney? That won't hurt so much in March. It'll just feel good to have the Cubs back in your life again. I promise.

Rest assured we will be singing "Go Cubs Go" when the sun is shining and 2009 is The Year, but forgiveness is much more difficult to muster right now. That's why--in good times and bad--I've always preferred a different Steve
Goodman ditty as my favorite musical homage to the Cubs.

This one goes out to all the True Cubs Fans who will never
understand why it has to be this way, but will continue to stick it out. Better luck next century. Go Cubs.

Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around?
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground?
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League

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