From the Cheap Seats: The Cubs game left me speechless

The front page of the Chicago Tribune for Thursday, November 3rd.

By Ryan Stonebraker
Sports Editor, Tipton Conservative

I have been a Cubs fan since the summer of 1987 and a baseball fan all of my life and, for the second time in my life, baseball left me speechless and in tears. The first was in Little League when I was in sixth grade and then last Wednesday when the Cubs won the world series.

I wasn’t always a Cubs fan, surprisingly.  I was a St. Louis Cardinals fan for my early days. My mom’s dad, my Grandpa Vollbrecht, played semi-pro baseball near Quincy, Illinois and raised his family there listening to KMOX and the great St. Louis Cardinals. He passed that love for the Redbirds to his daughter, my mom, and eventually to me and my brother as kids. My first baseball heros were Ozzie Smith, Willie McGee and Tommy Herr. I had more 1983 and 1984 Topps baseball cards of Cardinals players than anyone on my block growing up in Brooklyn.

Then, Little League started, and I was on the Cubs. That year the Chicago Cubs signed a big free agent, Andre Dawson. Legend has it that the Cubs handed Dawson a blank check to sign with them telling him to fill it in. 1987 was the summer that I was also finishing up my 6th grade year and my last in Little League. Dawson had a great summer, winning the 1987 National League MVP award by smashing 49 home runs and getting 137 RBI’s. It was the first of three 100+ RBI seasons and 20 or more home run seasons in his six years as a Cub.

I started off hot that year in little league getting on-base at a high clip than Dexter Fowler did this year. I did so well, our coach moved me to the lead-off spot. I know, it’s hard to believe, but at one time, I could scoot around the bases fairly fast.
The first time I was in tears due to baseball came three weeks into that season. We played the Dodgers who for some reason had colors of green and white. Brooklyn had four teams, the Cubs, Cardinals, Dodgers and Yankees. We played doubleheaders twice a week for two months.

In our second game with the Dodgers, I came up with the bases loaded in my second at bat. Where we played, there were no fences then, however, there was a large hill that often times at the top, parents would park and look down on the games, especially if a brother or sister were acting up as they could keep an eye on junior and still watch the game. Only a few in my three-year little league career hit the ball on that hill, which was maybe 200 feet away. You really had to get a hold of it to put it on the hill. This game, I got a hold on one. I didn’t park it on the hill, but at the base of it and it rolled up a ways. I easily made it around the bases and had a grand slam, putting us up 8-0. Then, the name- less Dodgers manager..protested the play, saying that I didn’t touch third base when I rounded home. They appealed and the ump called me out. Already in the dugout, I had a George Brett moment when he was called out for too much ‘pine tar’ on his bat during a Royals-Yankees game. After I settled down, I retreated to the dugout where I burst out in tears. Not because I didn’t touch third, but because I cost our team a run. I went on to have an average season, but that moment stuck with me.

The second time, I had tears in my eyes was last Wednesday. I knew that seeing baseball history was a possibility either way last week as the Indians hadn’t won a title since 1948. Game 7 last week was crazy, albeit not well managed by either team. My girls were excited about the game and I asked my youngest, if she fell asleep, did she want me to wake her to see the last out. Yes! That was her answer. As the bottom of the 10th started, my girls and I watched as the Cubs made history. After Kris Bryant’s 5-3 play to Anthony Rizzo recorded the last out, I was speechless. I raised my hand to my mouth and sat there, stunned and happy and tears rolling down my face. Where a typical fans reaction would be a scream, fist wave or tip of the hat, I sat there silent. Thoughts of my grandparents, my mom, dad, brother, my best friend from growing up, all of the baseball card trading, RBI Nintendo play- ing, little league to high school days thinking that these would be the years and finally, years later it was here. The Chicago Cubs are the 2016 World Series Champions. It’s finally starting to sink in. I look forward to next year, and I am already missing baseball, but like many, it’s good to have a break from it.

I enjoyed baseball this summer more than I ever have. When you get older, are married with a family and have more responsi- bilites, it’s hard to keep up on all of the sports you did in younger days. You have to put something away, you can’t do it all any- more.  I choose baseball to keep and have let pro sports and most col- lege sports fall by the wayside. It’s a sport that you can’t fake, sure you can for a while, but you can’t for a season. Knowing that and seeing the drama play out the past years keeps me coming back.

I think that I chose correctly. The past two summers have proven that. A 2015 Royals title followed by a 2016 Cubs title, along with trips to St. Louis and Kansas City for in person games has helped my love of the sport deepen. I can only hope for 2017 to see the Cardinals give the Cubs a run or the Brewers come alive. Regardless, I have a feeling baseball will provide more speechles moments for me in the future.