Go Cubs go

The best thing ever is that post-game glow on everyone's faces after a great Cubs win. Walking out of the bleacher gates feels the same as walking out of a rock concert; your voice is gone, your ears are ringing, and everyone's completely exhausted -- but in a happy, wholly satisfied way. But the party doesn't stop there. Drunk strangers high-five each other on their way to the nearest bar, drummer boys bang away festively, and everyone sings along to "Go Cubs Go." When I look around myself sometimes on afternoons like this, I still can't believe that I'm actually living my childhood dream of living near Wrigley Field and going to all of the games.

Now, about that "Go Cubs Go" song, I hate it. Always have. I understand that the Cubs marketing folks felt like they needed to emulate the White Sox who adopted Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" as their signature song, but why did they have to choose this piece of cheese? The whole "let's lock our arms together and sway back and forth and sing along like it's a Bon Jovi song playing at a bar right before last call" thing just makes me sick. Personally, I think they should play "Your Love Keeps Taking Me Higher" by Jackie Wilson. It's less corny, and even more feel-good than "Go Cubs Go," and it was the introductory song for most of Barack Obama's speeches during the primary season, and it was the song in Ghostbusters 2 that helped the ectoplasm bring the Statue of Liberty to life (watch this scene, and if it doesn't put a smile on your face, then you have no heart). But that's just me.

But who am I to complain? You can't have everything in life, but if you're a Cubs fan living in Wrigleyville during this time of the year, you can come pretty damn close. They, by the way, shellacked the White Sox 11-7 with a 9-run 4th inning where it seemed like they'd never stop putting runs on the board. It was a beautiful thing to watch, on the most beautiful day of the summer. It really doesn't get better than this.

Actually, it does. When I came home, still smiling ear to ear, my roommate smirked at me and said, "Hey man, check this out," and then he turned on today's game that he had recorded on DVR, and THERE WAS ME AND MY FRIEND JULIE. On TV. A close-up of us. In high-definition. Me with my game-face on because it was the 9th inning.

"Dude," I said, laughing loudly, collapsing onto the couch in amusement, "THAT is fucking awesome. On a happy scale of 1 to 10 earlier, I was a 9.9. Now I'm a 10."