I was born and raised in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, a.k.a. Cubs territory. Despite this, I am a strict White Sox fan with my family being avid enthusiasts for three generations.
In Chicago, we are taught to hate the rival team almost as much as we love our own. So when the Cubs made it to the National League Championship this year against the New York Mets for the first time since 2003, I had no choice but to don my A.J. Pierzynski White Sox t-shirt and defend my South Side pride.
Though I am forever loyal to the Sox, I couldn’t help but hope that, in this championship, the Cubs might redeem themselves after that infamous incident the night of October 14, 2003.
It happened during game six of the National League Championship.
Top of the eighth inning, the Cubs were beating the Florida Marlins 3-0.Ivy-coated Wrigley Field overflowed with fans and the rooftops of the surrounding apartments illuminated the night sky with exhilaration.
With a 3-2 count, Mark Prior threw the pitch to Luis Castillo who drove the ball down the foul territory of left field. Left fielder Moises Alou charged towards the stands and sprung into a leap for the ball.
While the ball was just above his mitt, the surrounding spectators reached for the catch. The ball landed in the hands of a simple young man wearing glasses, a headset and a Cubs hat named Steve Bartman. Alou stormed off in rage from what the announcer said was “awfully close to fan interference.”
Alou wasn’t the only one angry about the incident. The surrounding fans continued to harass Bartman — even threaten him — until he had to be escorted out of the stadium. It didn’t help that the Cubs proceeded to lose the Championship.
But it’s just a game, right? Not in Chicago. Even after the series, Bartman and his family experienced torment and had to change their phone number. Although the Cubs organization apologized to Bartman, he still receives threatening calls when the incident is brought to attention.
Today it seems that no one knows where the wrong-place-wrong-time fan is except for Murtha and the Bartman family.
This story appears almost too ridiculous to be true. Bartman clearly did not deserve the pain that led him to uproot his entire life. Were the Cubs really desperate enough to blame an entire series loss on a single, innocent fan?
As much as I’m tempted to point fingers at the entire franchise, North Side fans alone cannot carry blame for the incident.
The media attention the case received stems from society’s craving for drama; blowing Bartman’s actions out of proportion. In addition, the Bartman incident gave fans something to divert their frustration towards their loss.
This event not only speaks for the attitudes of the 2003 Cubs fans, but for society’s perceptions of sports in general. The hoots and hollers of the fans show just how passionate people are about their teams.
Passion can be positive — it gives people something to hope for, to dream of, to believe in outside of their personal lives. But when passion turns to rage — especially rage against an individual — there’s a problem. What should have been an iconic memory for Bartman turned into the moment that ruined his life.
With Bartman’s absence from the spotlight, there’s little anyone can do to make up for this; which is why (and this kills me to admit it) I felt a trifle of remorse when the Cubs lost the Championship to the Mets.
Maybe a win could have finally allowed the fans to forgive Bartman and make peace. Instead, Aisle 4, Row 8, Seat 113 will always be known as where the man in the glasses sat and scarred the history of the Cubs forever.