Born and raised a Cubs fan, I have fond memories of watching TV and hearing radio broadcasts of Cubs games with my Dad. He fit the ultimate mold of a die-hard Cubs fan. He knew every player and coach. He knew their schedule and opponents. My Dad spent time explaining the game to me, sharing his perspectives on what they were doing well and what they could improve.

He would pitch to me in our backyard and we’d pretend I was the last batter in the 9th inning with two outs that needed to get a hit. That experience instilled in me confidence under pressure and focus. One of those attempts resulted in a broken basement window… ok, so knew I had enough power on the swing. 🙂

Over the years, my Dad wrote letters to the Chicago Cubs, sharing advice on players, plays and everything else. He would ask me to mail them for him. In my teen years, I would roll my eyes, a typical teen reaction, however would dutifully mail the letters. After most mailings, he would eventually receive the boilerplate “Thank you for your interest in the team…” response letters. I don’t know if he really believed that the Cubs would take his thoughts to heart and consider some of his ideas, but nevertheless, his face lit up when those “thank you” letters would come in.

For those of you who may not fully understand the absolute delight and emotion of this World Series win, you would have had to ride the never ending roller coaster of belief, disappointment, faith, let down, hope, sadness, winning, losing and the all-in commitment for decades.

Dad died in August of 2006, at 7:05 p.m., the start time of the Phillies versus the Cubs that night at Wrigley. The Cubs lost that game 2-1, because, perhaps, Wrigley heaved a breath of sadness for my Dad. I purchased a memorial brick in his honor, now located in the outside perimeter of Wrigley Field. It’s inscribed, “Managing from Heaven” with his name.

Dad didn’t get to see the next 10 years of play, the ups and downs, and most recently, the rise of a team that came together to achieve what had been elusive for over a century.

I envision that on the evening of the 2016 World Series Game 7, and all of the games that preceded it, there were box seats and bleachers full of many loved ones who watched the game from a heavenly view. I can imagine dancing and partying and elation that fills all beyond us when Kris Bryant picked up that slow roller and threw it to Anthony Rizzo for that final out — the final out of the World Series – the absolute last act of crowning the Chicago Cubs World Champions!

I can imagine all of this because… I believe, I have faith and hope, and I’ll always carry with me the memory of my Dad.

Here’s to you Dad… it finally happened!

#FlytheW #CubsWintheWorldSeries #GoCubsGo

photo credit: Matt Slocum/Associated Press