The following is a letter that a Sox fan wrote to the Tribune and was printed in their paper:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion...1,3510100.story
Advice for cry-baby Cubs fans: Could you people move on?
Published December 23, 2003
Of course, the "Bartman ball" was purchased by an owner of Harry Caray's restaurant and, of course, he plans to destroy it in a ritual designed to purge the curse of Chicago's legendarily star-crossed team. This will, of course, add to the mythology surrounding Chicago's North Side franchise.
Because it is so much more interesting to build up silly myths about the haunted space at Addison and Clark Streets than to just acknowledge that Cubs manager Dusty Baker left pitcher Mark Prior in too long; that the Florida Marlins were teeing off on him like it was batting practice; that Sammy Sosa missed the cut-off man and Alex Gonzalez booted a routine grounder. The Cubs had played amazing, unexpected baseball to that point, but the team ended up choking under pressure, like a thousand other less storied and less glamorized losing ball clubs. It happens.
Remember, Steve Bartman wasn't the only fan going for that ball during Game 6 of the National League Championship Series at Wrigley Field. He was just better situated than the rest. But he fits the "Cub Fan Profile" to a "T." Young guy, devoted to the Cubs, so caught up in the age-old tradition of catching a souvenir at the old ballpark that he forgot that he was sitting so close to the wall that any ball catchable by him was perhaps also catchable by someone who mattered to the outcome of the game.
So we focus, first our wrath, and then our forgiveness, on a kid in the stands instead of a group of highly paid professionals who couldn't get the job done when it mattered. The Cubs: It's not a baseball team, it's a morality play.
When the Sox lose, we Sox fans get mad and throw things and curse the owner, the manager and the players. We say they screwed up, so-and-so has gotta go, and we vow never to return again to Comiskey or "Nextel One" or whatever it's called now.
That's what baseball fans do when their teams disappoint.
But the Cubs aren't just another baseball team. They're The Loveable Sunshine Boys of the Golden North Side, where the sun shines brighter, the Bud Light flows longer and hope springs eternal. The Cubs are America's "Superstation" Sweethearts, a repository of all our hopes and dreams and other gooey feelings about the way life should be. The Sox are just our local baseball team.
My team, the White Sox, isn't necessarily better than the Cubs year in and year out. In fact, last year it was worse. But when the Sox lose, "certain" worshippers aren't elevated to demigods or demons and we Sox fans don't try to turn the loss into some kind of divine lore. That's why the White Sox still is the franchise of choice for discerning local baseball fans who like their teams straight up without all that sappy stuff. Go Sox.