Cubs Win!

I watched most of the games, I'm embarrassed to say. Therapists should go home after work, tend to the people in their families (second shift), have a quiet, newsworthy, intimate dinner with someone they love. Be an example to the community. Don't shame-faced tell their friends, Yeah, at the end of the day. . . I watch the Cubs.

But who wants to talk to anyone, in the evening? We want to change into sweats, turn on the TV, and maybe, just maybe, if there's one on, watch the game.

There's a knock on the door, it could be a friend who wants to power walk. Would this not be the better thing to do? No, it would not, you gently explain. You see, the Cubs are going to the World Series this year. You'll see. And this game counts.

Then you go back to  it,  and during commercials toss up a huge salad, maybe bake a potato, check your phone, texts, email. You might even return some calls, straighten out drawers, even a closet. You might do an entire aquarium water change, all the while, the game is on, and the volume is up, unless you had to mute it to actually talk.

It was hard for me, when my mother was alive. She wanted to talk every day, but mostly, she wanted to listen to me, telling her about my day. If the game was on, not so much of a problem. That you can do, watch a baseball game, while talking to your mother.

At the end of the game the guy who is calling the game, maybe Pat Hughes, Ron Cooper, Jim Deshaies or Len Kasper, would shout out at the top of his lungs, CUBS WIN!!!!!!

What a summer this has been for Cub fans. You'd see one, a fan wearing a hat, maybe while waiting for a bus. You would nod and say, This year for sure!! And both of you smile.

THE STORY.

I registered for a conference, the Council for Social Work Education's Annual Program Meeting (APM16) in Atlanta, (CSWE16), had scheduled my flight for Wednesday night, last night, months ago. It never occurred to me to check the schedule for the World Series. And wouldn't you know, the last game, the most important game of the year, the deciding game of the World Series, would begin at 7 pm, when FD and I would be in the air.

So I downloaded all kinds of apps to stream it, and told myself the flight would be late and I could see the game in the airport, but nothing, nothing helped change this most powerless, angry, futile feeling, that we would not see that game, and seeing it in the repeat would not be satisfy.

My son-in-law invited us over to watch the game and I had to tell him I'd be in the air, and he texted back and said, "You're daughter just called you a loser. CUBS!!"

It woke me up. Sometimes someone has to speak the truth.

The backstory is that I had been navigating the app for the conference for a few days, and couldn't understand it. Anyone who knew the organization better would understand it, but having been focused on learning about mental disorders and how to help people who suffer because of them, education, the science of educating social workers, went fallow. So I didn't realize that the modules offered for Thursday didn't even apply to me. I didn't have to be there until Thursday night. I could definitely change that Wednesday flight and hotel reservation.

So Wednesday morning, as soon as I could, I checked United to find that there were plenty of flights early Thursday morning, and they were only $99.00. Sure, we might have to pay to change, but so what?  People paid thousands to get a ticket for these World Series games. I could certainly pop for a few hundred.

FD agreed.

And United, as if they understood what this was all about, was totally on board, waived the change fee.

We popped some corn and brought the salad to the family (those without little babies) party, surprised everyone.

When I told the other kids about changing the flight, the ones who could not be with us, one of the boys merely wrote, Respect.

And when we heard that final, CUBS WIN!!!!   well after midnight, I have to tell you, there was nothing in my experience, nothing quite like it, no words to express. The feeling.

We're waiting for the plane now; there are CUB hats all around, very tired CUB fans in the airport, and I've go on my light blue CUB sweatshirt, and that feeeling, it's in my chest, it isn't going away. And I know it isn't the same anxiety that I get when thinking, "We're gonna miss this plane." This is a good one. This is excitement.

It used to be crazy to be a CUB fan, but it's not in the DSM 5, and nobody can doubt this young team of very talented, highly watchable, men are likely to give us a great run for it next year, too.
It has been #GoCubsGo for months now, and I promise I'll stop.

Next year, however, I buy the white and blue flag.

therapydoc