Some of you reading this know the story, but a lot of you have never heard it. It’s best to rip the bandaid off and spit it out: I did not see the conclusion of game seven of the 2016 World Series. Specifically, I missed everything after the rain delay. If I could have the floor to expand, please.
In November 2016, I was in Saint Martin. I was getting married and had known that I’d be there for like 18 months. The Cubs were in the process of opening our eyes way back then, but the plans were made all the same. As that season progressed and the Cubs took it to the NLCS, the reality that a 2016 World Series appearance was very much possible. So much so, my best man informed me after that 2015 season that should the Cubs be in the World Series in 2016 and the games overlapped with the wedding, he’d be staying in Chicago. He wasn’t kidding, either.
Fast forward to the 2016 postseason. Based on the playoff schedule, there would be no issues with the World Series carrying into my wedding, but if it went past six games, I’d be watching the final abroad. We know how that story goes.
It’s now game seven for all the marbles. And I am at an all-inclusive resort that has a booze fridge in the room that is refilled daily and a pool with a swim-up bar. Remember those facts, as they become important. I spent the day enjoying all those amenities to the fullest, and by the time first pitch rolled around, we found our way to the “sports bar” on-premises. We were not the only ones at this bar, we were joined by a contingency of Cleveland Indians fans from Canada. We bonded very quickly over the similar mullets of one in their group and one of my best friends. We watched the game and continued to enjoy the available refreshments.
Eventually, we decide to move to a new spot to finish the game. Those who know me know that when the liquor has begun to take over, I undergo a sort of facial affliction where my eyes begin to exist in a dual state of being both open and closed. To wit:
Clearly, I was working out around the clock and doing keto while intermittent fasting. As the game continued, so too did the cocktails. You know it was late because I’d switched to Vodka Tonic at this point. Crack. Rajai Davis (?!) has tied the game. Mercifully, we move to the ninth with a tied score.
This is where my story diverges from so many other Cub fans. The tarps covering the field became the perfect metaphor for my eyelids, as I faded to black like the Soprano’s finale.
Suddenly I jolt awake. It’s late. Or early. It’s definitely dark, and I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. What I know is I remember a tied baseball game, and I’m pretty certain it has concluded, but who won?? I scramble to find my phone, finally grasping it in the dark. Dead. Dang it. Now comes the scramble to find a charger. I begin to dig feverishly through everything only to remember that stealth is in order, we have a one-year-old asleep in the room.
Gingerly, I uncover the charger, so it’s off to a wall outlet. You know how long it takes for your phone to restart after being dead? Extrapolate in the additional details I’ve laid out previously. Finally, that bitten apple logo appears on my screen, success! Except, I’m in a foreign country, I don’t have a phone signal. Desperately I attempt to connect to the spotty hotel WiFi. After what felt like days I was connected, and the Cubs pulled it off! I let out a shout of joy that was immensely uncontained, and there were consequences. That aforementioned one-year-old awoke to the sound of my joy. It was roughly 4:30am, not five hours ago I was asked to leave an establishment for being not “as awake as they prefer,” and I now had a sleepy one-year-old to attend to.
I’ll tell you all now what I once told Rusty Schwimmer, if it takes my passing out and missing the conclusion of the game for the Cubs to win it all, then I will shoulder my burden with a smile on my face, every time. Pass the Courvoisier.
Featured Photo: Matt Slocum/Associated Press