tBlog - my blog too: electric boogaloo

Sox fans, let it go.

I've lived in the Chicago area for 21 years, and I'm beyond tired of this rivalry. I'm sick of being labeled an obnoxious, rich, Lexus-driving Yuppie bastard just because I'm a Cubs fan.

For the record, I'm not rich, I'm not a yuppie, and I drive a 13-year-old Corolla because it's paid off. I'm a working wife and mother pregnant with my third child who still lives in an apartment. But I'm a Cubs fan because there is something special about sitting in *any* seat in Wrigley Field, watching the guys play even just one -- no matter how many times our hearts break over tough losses.

My parents probably took me to my first Cubs games before I cared enough about the game to do anything other than look for cute players. But just out of college, my friends and I went to any game we could. In the early 90s, it was easy and inexpensive to get bleacher seats. Since my best friend was a female sportswriter, a little sports cred rubbed off on me. It wasn't about sitting in the bleachers to get drunk, tanned, and picked-up; it was a day of fun and friendship in a place where we all felt comfortable and safe. Wrigley truly was, to us, the Friendly Confines, where even a nearly blind chick like me (wearing glasses over my contacts) could follow the game.

I turned 25 and married a guy from Boston by way of Washington and Philly, who, after his first Cubs game, got hooked -- like me, because of the field. Now, at 35, I have two boys who have also become Cubs fans. Our five-year-old spent this summer counting the days between the two games he got to see at the field. He used his crayons to perfect his own versions of the Cubs logo and replicate the scoreboard during the games he watched on TV. Unfortunately, the demand for tickets has soared famously in the past 10 years, and it was pretty hard for us to get in to more than a couple of games. But that didn't diminish enough our enjoyment of the game, our delight in our son's newfound passion, or our excitement at sitting even up in the (relative) nosebleed seats at Wrigley.

Just because I'm a Cubs fan, does that mean I have to be a cell-phone toting snob who automatically hates the White Sox? Heck, no. My husband and son are enthusiastically following the South Siders on their way to the top. We're not bitter because our Cubbies aren't there (we're not all that surprised, either). We're pretty proud to be in a city that supports two great ball clubs, one of whom is kicking some serious tail this year.

But Sox fans, I beg you.... be magnanimous in your victory. Enjoy this exciting time without turning the city's baseball rivalry into a class war. Pointing fingers and calling names has nothing at all to do with class, but winning gracefully certainly does.

["As Sure As I Am, " Crowded House]