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As the Chicago Cubs close out another post season with all of the gentleness and suddenness of a thirty-kilometer meteor impact, we Cubs fans are not lost in despair. “Why is that?” the non-cognoscenti may ask. There is a very simple explanation
You see, in spite of all the chaos and disorder surrounding us, without regard to the wails and gnashing of teeth from the suffering, the Cubs have been quickly, and ignominiously booted from contesting a post season, so we must conclude that conditions are too normal for the world to go very far wrong.
Looking to the future, there is always next year. Some will hear this claim and say that we Cubs fans are delusional. Nothing could be further from the truth. They must understand that true Cubs fans subscribe to the Quantum Theory of Baseball.
Don’t be intimidated by the name. Although closely related to the Quantum Theory of Physics, it is not nearly as difficult to understand. The principle is that since a Chicago Cubs World Championship cannot be inferred through direct measurement or observation, it must be thought of as a waveform and only expressed as a probability.
This probability seems to be only slightly more likely to occur than that of proton decay, which, though never having been observed, is calculated to occur on average, once every 10 to the thirty-sixth power years. That is one undecillion years. That’s a one followed by thirty-six zeroes. It’s okay to be intimidated by that number.
In spite of the vanishingly small probability of such an occurance, there is nothing to prevent it happening right now, and again in ten minutes time. It’s just not where you’ll find the smart money. It is, however why you keep hearing the hopeful intonation, “There’s always next year.”
Some year it will be next year, and although the Cubs players were clearly hell bent on making sure that it wasn’t this year, when that probability comes up we will find ourselves in an unbelievable situation where, in spite of their most earnest efforts, they will be incapable of screwing it up.
Imagine a throw from the outfield to home plate sailing errantly toward the dugout, and then, through some bizarre warping of space/time, curving inexorably into the catcher’s mitt to make the tag and the out. Think of an Alphonso Soriano chasing another low outside pitch into the dirt when suddenly an extradimensional bat makes contact to punch the ball into the center field bleachers. These occurances could be likely when the tiny probability makes itself manifest.
In the meantime, what better is there to do than wait for a probability to occur? It is worth waiting for, if only for the salutary effect it will have by sticking a sock in White Sox fans.
