From the Windup: The Sickness

From the Windup is Matt Snyder's extended look at some aspect of America's pastime.

Being a fan of certain sports teams, by definition, means we aren't exactly the most rational people around. "Fan," after all, is short for "fanatic." The dictionary definition of fanatic? A person with an extreme and uncritical enthusiasm or zeal. So, yeah, when I say I'm a Cubs fan, you'll have to keep that definition in mind as you read this.

Earlier this week, I actually thought the Cubs were back in the NL wild-card race.

There, I said it.

Am I touched in the head? Of course I am. We all are. We're fanatics. After Tuesday night, the Cubs had won eight of their last 10 games and were only trailing Colorado -- who had lost four straight -- by four games in the loss column. Despite everything disappointing that had happened at the intersection of Clark and Addison this summer, the Cubs had a realistic shot at the playoffs.

I found myself going back over things and getting bitter again.

Why did Lou Piniella stick with that albatross, Alfonso Soriano, atop the lineup for so long? Surely that accounted for two losses over the course of the season.

What if Pineilla had done what everyone else in the baseball following world would have done coming out of spring training: name Carlos Marmol the closer instead of Kevin Gregg? Marmol hasn't been near a sure thing this year, but what if he was just mentally awry due to not getting the job he -- and nearly every Cubs fan -- thought he had already earned?

Not only that, I found myself questioning moves in individual games the Cubs lost. I found myself going nuts about why Jim Hendry changed the makeup of a team who won 97 games last year. And on and on.

I had been asking all these questions since the third week of August, when I stopped watching the games. I had to stop, for my own sanity, but I still checked the standings on a daily basis. It's part of the sickness, you know, not being able to let go. I just can't kick the addiction. No fan can. And here I was, having sworn to not watch another game this season, tuning in Wednesday to cheer on the Cubs like it was Opening Day.

It was a true, "just when I think I'm out, they pull me back in" moment. My wife said, "wow, I haven't seen them in a while," when she saw the mugs of Cubs announcing duo Len Kasper and Bob Brenley on our TV instead of Curb Your Enthusiasm reruns. My reply, "we're back in the race!"

Um, no. "We" weren't.

Being afflicted with this mental illness, my renewed optimism failed to consider myriad things. Such as the fact that the 2009 Cubs just aren't a good baseball team or the fact that they'd still have to jump over four teams -- all of whom have superior on-field products at this point.

And here we are, two days later. The Cubs have lost two straight and are now seven games behind the Rockies for the last playoff spot. No chance.

Thus is the life of a fan. It makes a normally rational and reasonably intelligent person nothing more than a moron, at times.

So, tell me: how long did you stick around?

Rangers fans? You still there? Seven games behind the surging Red Sox and 7 1/2 behind the Angels. Your team is out of it, but are you?

Rays fans, how long did you guys stick around?

White Sox fans probably got sucked back in a bit earlier this week, just like their North Side brethren. Maybe it was because we were depressed about the combination of Jay Cutler's picks and Brian Urlacher's injury and we just needed a distraction.

Marlins and Braves fans? How are the collective mentalities there?

Even the Mariners, Brewers and Astros: when did you guys finally see the writing on the wall? I bet it was a few weeks after the rest of us wrote your respective teams off.

Just follow my lead.

My name is Matt, and I am a Cuboholic.

Hey, the first step in solving a problem is admitting it. Of course, you can't kick the habit unless you really want to. And I sure as hell don't. I welcome the next 50 years of fandom, whether marked by misery or not. Bring it on.

Did I mention 2010 might be The Year?

Like Disturbed once shrieked, I'm down with the sickness.