Go, Cubs

The All-Star Game has come and gone. We're back into regular-season baseball. Yikes.

As you probably know, I'm a baseball fan. In fact, I'm a Cubs fan. In previous years, that was enough to earn me sympathy from friends and family. It remains to be seen what it will mean this year.

I was able to watch the team on TV today (they lost, but played well), and I realized with a jolt that now it's starting to get scary. Each game will mean a little more. The upcoming trade deadline means that I have to worry about who will stay and who will go. The standings will occupy a little more of my concentration.

This half of the season is so different than the first half! While the first half is full of hope and discovery, this half holds more tension and, possibly, heartbreak.

But we can't have one without the other. The team has battled this far and they're going to keep battling. They're not going to quit, so I can't either. I will follow them to the end, whether it's bitter or sweet.

But I promise this: as long as the Cubs play hard and well, I'll cheer for them no matter what happens in the autumn. That's what a fan does. We pour our hearts out in the stadium, in our living rooms, in bars, wherever we happen to be. We celebrate the victories and mourn the losses. We believe, and we express that belief.

We don't take our frustrations out on the team. As long as they're trying, they don't deserve blame. After all, we're the ones who chose to be fans. We're the ones who chose this particular team. Nobody forced us.

And look what they do for us. They let us escape. They let us forget the darker side of human nature and believe in the light side. They let us admire the beauty of a blue sky, green grass and the arc of a white ball. They remind us of what makes summer good. And then the standings seem a little less important.

You can tell me it's just a sport, and I acknowledge that. History will not be changed by the next Cubs game. But I might.