The loveable losers they’re called. The team I have loved my whole life.

Growing up
with Cubbie blood, baseball has always been my favorite sport to watch. But one dream I always
had, the team my mother, and her mother always had was to watch the Chicago Cubs win a
World Series. It was October 25, 2016, Game one of the 2017 world series, Cubs verses Indians.
Cubs are looking for their first title in 108 years, Indians looking for theirs in 84. Indians take
home field advantage. They come out on top with a zero to six win. Day 2, Cubs take a five-to-
one win over the Indians. Game three were headed back to Chicago, its October 28. Indians win
1-0. Indians win again but then the cubs come back and win the next two games. The series is
now tied 3-3. Game seven. The most important game, loser goes home winners take the trophy.
With the game being tied 6-6 in after nine innings, a dark, gray, angry cloud come rumbling over
Progressive Stadium. 17 minutes. 17 minutes of torture, 17 minutes of rest, 17 minutes to
breathe, and for Jason Heyward to call the team together and boost morale. “Were the best team
in baseball… for a reason… stick together and we’re going to win this game”. It’s what the team
needed to hear. They were stressed, they weren’t only doing this for themselves, but they were
doing it for Chicago. They were doing it for the grandparents who refused to die until they saw
the cubs win. For the families who were generations deep cubbie. For my great grandfather, who
54321fought his whole career, going to the world series four times and never winning a title.
They weren’t just playing for themselves, they were playing for Chicago.
The whole game I was home with my entire extended family, watching the game.
Stressed, excitement, nerves, every feeling in the world filled the room at different points of the
game. When the rain delay came, my two brothers, a friend, and I decided to call an uber to the
city. We wanted to be down in Wrigleyville when they won. We knew they were going to, they
absolutely had to. Every exit near Wrigleyville off the highway was closed because there were so
many people in the streets, and I wanted to be one of those people. Finally, we were able to find
an exit, and the Uber driver got us as close as he could to the crowds. We ran to the stadium,
praying we didn’t miss the game. The rain delay was over, game on. Top of the 10th, cubs at bat.
I took out my phone, because I wanted to see what ever happen, happen. Kyle Schwarber leads
off with single. Hopes were higher than the clouds. By the end of the top of the 10th, cubs were
winning 8-6. Bottom of 10, Cleveland scores, making it a one run game. The moment I will
never forget, the final out to make dreams come true around the world. Everything seemed to be
happening in slow motion. Ground ball to Kris Bryant at third, trips over his own feet a bit on the
throw to first. Rizzo catches it, umpire calls the out, and everyone goes insane. I am standing
there in absolute shock. I never thought I would see this day come. The loveable losers, are no
longer the loveable losers.

“Who knew 17 minutes of rain could wash away a 108 year drought”