I love the Chicago Cubs. I have always loved the Chicago Cubs. Every summer, I take my sons to a game at Wrigley where they make fun of me for loving the Chicago Cubs. And every summer the Cubs break my heart—year after year after year. When I watch some other team lift the World Series Trophy, I promise to cheer for another team. Any other team. Except, the White Sox. I hide my Cubs gear, and I put away all my memorabilia. Then, in the winter, it starts. I start to miss baseball. I start to look at free agent ...
