If you watched Game 7 on Wednesday night, then there is not really much left to add.
Given the plot-twisting excitement of the game, with the stunning comeback by the Cleveland Indians in the 8th inning against the game’s hardest throwing closer, followed by a drama-halting rain delay, and then one more comeback attempt by the Indians that ultimately fell short — it would have been an extremely memorable game no matter what.
But since it was the decisive game of the World Series between two teams that hadn’t won in a combined 176 years, it may go down as one of the — if not the — greatest baseball games of all time.
For those who aren’t major fans of the sport but understood the significance enough to tune in — understand that you just watched something that will probably be talked about for ages to come.
Yes, I was rooting for the Indians, and yes, I fell into an uneasy sleep knowing that Cubs fans’ misery ended before mine (my beloved Mets have not won a World Series in my lifetime), it’s hard to stay mad when you appreciate what the Cubs just accomplished.
And on a side note, I went to Wrigley Field for a game this year for the first time. And who knows, it may be my only time. It would be pretty neat to say that the only game I’ve ever watched there came in the season in which the Cubs won it all.
But there’s really nothing more left to say. Congratulations to the Chicago Cubs and their fans. Especially Bill Murray.
Actually, congratulations only to Bill Murray.
And now, our attention turns back to the final weekend before the presidential election. We can all take some solace in knowing that we are so close to being done, and maybe — just maybe — we can all return to our normal lives next week without living in a world where a verbal political assault can break out at any given moment.
In five days, we will know who our next president is.
Hey, Wednesday night might not be the first time the blue team beats the red team.