Girls, the winds are changing. Can you feel it? For 100 years the Cubs have broken our hearts. But that's all about to change. Don't believe me? Need proof? The Cubs are in LA for a four game series against Joe Torre and the Dodgers and Thursday night the score was tied 4 - 4 after eight innings. In the top of the ninth, The Riot scored on a ground ball to right field by Fukudome. Cubs are up 5 -4 with Wood coming in to close. Life is good.The Dodgers' Lowey doubles to lead off the home half of the ninth and then DeWitt fans for the first out. Chin Lung Hu (Hu's on first? No, he's actually the SS) flys out to Edmunds in center. Two outs. With the count 1 - 2 Wood drills Tiffee for his NL-leading sixth hit batter to send Tiffee to first. Wood then has Pierre on the ropes 1- 2 throwing 97 degree heat. One more stike and we take the first game and extend our lead over the rest of the NL Central and all of baseballdom. But remember, this is the Cubs and nothing comes easy, so Wood throws three straight balls to walk Pierre and load the bases with two outs. Facing Kemp and struggling to get out of the inning with a save, Wood plows the first pitch in the dirt and then misses again outside for ball two.
So, bottom of the ninth leading 5 -4, two outs, bases loaded, and a 2-0 count. In heartbreaking days of old, this is where Wood gives up a grand slam home run and the Cubs are left licking their wounds with yet another crushing loss. I can't even count how many times we've had victory in our grasp and then found a way to completely implode. Too many times. The goat. The black cat. 1985. San Diego. The Bartman Game. It all comes back in a torrent of pain. It goes on and on an on. I must admit that from years of conditioning, like Pavlov's dogs, I heard the bell and my faith faltered just a smidgen. Not again?
Then, glorious rays of light, and here's where the karma shifts. Here's where Providence deems we've suffered long enough. Here's where I now truly know things are going to be different this year. Wood doesn't give up a walk off grand slam. No sir. He throws three straight 96 mile an hour laser strikes. Cubs win. Cubs win. Cubs win.
Somewhere, Harry is smiling.
