Chasing that feeling

It has been 8 years since I have felt the worse pain I, and possibly all, Cubs fans could have felt. For some of us, that pain ran deeper than others, and I think this is why I've let the documentary on that day sit on my DVR until tonight. I'm not going to stand atop a soap box and say my experience was worse than someone else's, but I will tell my story.

Earlier in 2003 we lost two friends from our group. These weren't just two friends, they were really the life of our party. A strange thing happened after that tragic night, we all seemed to grow closer, if only for a year. Everything one of us did, we all did. We had our long painful nights, and we had those nights where our family became closer than ever, sharing things, and thoughts, and feelings. This would be an experience which at the time we didn't really know it, but looking back caused us to grow as individuals as well as within each other.

Soon after the tragic night, started the 2003 baseball season. The Chicago Cubs had just hired Dusty Baker, and within our group we had a feeling there would be something special with this team. With Sosa belting home runs and Alou playing so well. The additions of Eric Karros, and later on Aramis Ramirez and Kenny Loften. Finally, the best pitching staff in the league. Anchored by Kerry Wood and the phenom Mark Prior, they also had the electric Carlos Zambrano and the goatee'd Matt Clement. This was certainly the year, and our angels from above would make sure of it.

Game 6 of the NLCS. We ha decided to go out to Wrigley for the celebration, and if all went well we would repeat this for the World Series. That night there were what seemed like thousands of buses running the same lines, expecting much more people in Wrigleyville than normal.

As we approached Wrigley all of a sudden squad cars are rushing all over, surely for the thousands of Cubs fans in the streets drinking. As we get to the ballpark it's the 7th inning and the Cubs are up 3-0, oddly we had a Sox fan bus driver who gave us some not so nice words of encouragement as we left.

Walking down the street I am watching street vendors opening boxes of brand new shirts, Chicago Cubs National League Champion shirts. I will not name names, but some of them weren't hiding the fact that they had them already, and were promising that these will be the locker room shirts. I'm convinced that if I wasn't in a rush, I could have bought one.

As we are standing outside, enjoying what will soon become the greatest party of our lives, a hush came across the crowd. One of our friends that had a portable TV said, there was some fan that interfered with a ball, but wasn't sure of all the events. Then soon everything started getting out, as well as the air all around. The electricity was leaving, and excitement was turning into anger.

We all know what happened that night, the details on Bartman, and the blown lead and game. What some don't know is the pain that was felt. This was a kick in our gut, and was the night that some of our group began to fade away.

That night was a horrible night. We, seemingly walking aimlessly, went off in strange directions and ended up nowhere near a train station. We walked for hours and hours on end, stopping for misleading directions here and there while going off further and further into the abyss in the night.

Tensions, tiredness, hunger, thirst, disappointment, and everything else started to reach the surface that night. It was, needless to say, a very bad night. Arguments and tensions grew, an finally we hitched a ride from a paddy wagon from one train station to another and eventually made our way home when another friend can and grabbed us.

We all watched game 7 at one of our adopted parents homes. I think part of all of us knew our friends will make this one happen for us, and if you knew our friends you would have agreed they could get God to change an outcome of anything. Watching the game we just knew something wasn't there. The electricity just seemed to be missing, and 3 hours later the Florida Marlins were going on to face the Yankees in the World Series.

The turn of events made me despise Steve Bartman. He after all started the chain of events that caused the wheels to come off the whole thing. I couldn't stand his turtle neck or his Renegades sweater. I wanted to break his glasses and step on his headphones. After all, these were the only things I knew about Steve, and I hated them all.

Time went on and my anger towards Steve had calmed a little, and I looked at things more from the baseball perspective. Why did Alou act that way? Why haven't we yelled at nauseum about the error on Alex Gonzalez? Why did Dusty Baker leave Prior in for 120+ pitches?

You can't change what happened, and here I how I came upon this.

Years later I was working in Deerfield at a cellular store where I managed. It was a Sunday afternoon, and getting late when a couple had just walked in. They were older, but seemed very approachable (something odd for this area) so we began talking. Right away I noticed their shirts, they were both wearing shirts that had Baseball Tours printed on them. I really wanted to inquire more about these shirts, so eventually I asked.

They went on to tell me some of the greatest baseball stories from a fans perspective I have ever heard. Our conversation lasted about 2 hours after we talked baseball and I had long let the rest of the staff go home as we ha been closed for an hour or so. They had talked about the tour that they went on, and encouraged me to do the same, they talked about growing up here going to Cubs games, and talked about how much their son loved the sport a well. We had talked for hours about stories of old and what the chances were for the most current Cubs team. Which is where I began to get confused.

See they still watched baseball, and the Cubs, but they watched for another reason it seemed. This was 2008, and this Cubs team looked very good on paper, but it didn't seem like they were as excited about this as I, or other Cubs fans were. This was puzzling, and I soon found out why.

I was sitting here talking to Mr. and Mrs. Bartman. They had brought this up like follows...

Speaking about the Cubs, I'm surprised you haven't kicked us out of here by now.

As I asked why, it dawned on me, I haven't even asked their names yet. We had been talking for hours and I beer asked their names. This also happens to be the exact time they told me their names.

I went on to joke and said get out, but was still interested in them, their story, and of course Steve. It turns out I had talked to Steve just minutes earlier without knowing it. He was golfing in Northbrook, and his parents wanted to try out a Bluetooth device they had purchased online. He was nice and polite, and wanted to get back to his golf game. I had no idea who he was, and he of course had no idea who I was.

His parents went on to tell me more about his story. The story that always had the game of baseball front an center. He grew up playing the game, as well as going to Wrigley. It seemed his parents were blessed with a comfortable income, so I assumed he made it to more games through his childhood than I had gone to. They talked about his love for baseball, how we had actually played in a similar men's baseball league around the same time, and how that one moment changed all of it.

I don't know how to explain the pain I heard in their voices on their disappointment in how fans reacted, and how long it took for the Cubs to react. I especially do not know how to explain that pain to Cubs fans who went through that day, but I assure you it has brought more pain on him than it has the rest of us.

In one moment, a moment we all say we would have done differently, but I can guarantee most would have done the exact same thing. That one moment stole his first love away from him. The saying, it's better to of love and lost than to never of loved at all, was not the case with Steve Bartman. His life had change forever. The love of his life was lost.

That day I learned that Steve's life before that moment revolved around baseball, an the Chicago Cubs. Since that moment he has watched minimal moments here and there and has never gone to a game since.

I got the feeling coming away from my conversation that his parents went on the baseball tour which started our conversation to allow that love to continue on somehow. Like they had to continue his love for the game through themselves for some reason. Maybe it's a parental thing, or something that lives on through the Bartman family, but their stories hit home.

I felt a need that day to apologize for the acts Cubs fans had that day, and since. I know what some of you would say, he doesn't deserve an apology, if I was there I would have told them to you know what in you know where, etc. the thing is, none of you were there, an none of you were in his position that day in 2003. I let them know how disappointed I was in sane down to earth people acting the way they did, and saying the things they did. There was no reason for the reaction that Cubs fans had that day, honestly giving death threats and wishing some of the worse things you could wish upon a person.

They took the apology, but did mention that the blame was placed on the wrong person, then quickly mentioned Alou an Gonzalez.

So I finally turned Chasing Hell on today, not sure what to expect. It felt like a lot of the documentary was skewed towards a continued blame of Bartman, but also pointing out that others were doing the same. I however didn't find a new found distaste for Steve, but remembered the pain felt when the Cubs lost, as well as that summer that was. I remembered Steve's parents, an their stories. I remembered how much grief was put on Steve's shoulders, but nothing was given to the players who were playing.

Mostly I remember that as many 2003 Cubs players or organizational apologies that are forwarded to the Bartman family, it will not change the fact that Steve lost the love of his life that day, and will never be the same again.