Credit: Jan Fortytwo.

We went through years of seeing every hack in America reduce dramatic Red Sox playoff baseball to prefabricated invocations of the Curse of the Bambino, and hindsight has only proven how silly and counterproductive it was for writers to hug their clichés rather than write meaningful and interesting things about meaningful and interesting baseball games.

A plea for good writing about the Cubs.
↩︎ Deadspin
Oct 19, 2016

"That mounting sense of dread accompanying escalating blunders is what sportswriter Thomas Boswell once called 'the spooky music' that runs under baseball. And yet it’s easier for us to focus on a single mistake and call that 'the turning point.'"

Thirteen years and four days ago, the Cubs were up 3-1 in the NL Championship Series against the Florida Marlins, and ace right-hander Mark Prior had the game on lock. Then Cubs fan Steve Bartman caught a foul ball over the outstretched glove of leftfielder Moises Alou, who immediately and portentously lost his shit at Bartman, who was escorted away by security, secreted away never to appear publicly again.

Was he sent by the Billy Goat? A Marlins rally started immediately, and Prior lost his touch—for the game and soon for his career. Then Alou was soon a laughingstock for peeing on his hands. The Cubs would lose the game and the series. The ball was sold for $106,000, and Bartman got none of it.

See also: The 30 for 30 Catching Hell, a feature-length documentary on the Bartman incident.

The truth is that we ran the flag up the pole too soon. No doubt about it.

Prominent in the catalog of Cubbie woe: In 1969, a black cat circled star Ron Santo on the field, and Mr. Cub Ernie Banks wasn't enough to stave off a furious finish by the Miracle Mets.
↩︎ Chicago Tribune
Oct 17, 2016
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