"There's no crying in baseball!"

There is a dark curse that looms over me. No matter how hard I try to shake it, the demons of my past haunt me constantly. This curse has survived my ventures in Oklahoma, Washington, and Chicago. The horror it brings me and those around me are frightening. What curse? The Curse of the Cubs.

I'm not talking about how the Cubs have never won a World Series while I've been alive, or anyone else in my family, for that matter. It goes without saying that something is wrong there and entirely external to my frustration for the moment. My beef with the Cubs is that they have never won a game I've attended. Ever. As in I'm starting to think I'm destined to never see them win.

I initially thought this was a general curse, where no matter what sporting event I attended, the team I root for would fall. Part of that problem was living in DC when where the Nationals don't know what winning means. But that wasn't the truth when I've seen the Orioles win over the Royals (like that game mattered to me, though) and then the Bulls victorious over the Pacer earlier this year. In fact, I've seen every team I root for win at least one game in my life. This includes the newly established Oklahoma City Thunder, and I've only been to one of their games!

When I lived in Washington, Baltimore was the nearby team early on. There was no real chance for me to see the Cubs unless I travelled to Chicago to watch them play. Then the Nationals arrived and my excitement grew. As bad as the Expos, the team moving to become the Nationals, were in Montreal it almost seemed assured that I'd not only get to see the Cubs play, but I'd see them win a game or two. That first February after the Nationals arrived in the Capital City I in front of a friend's laptop, waiting for single game tickets to open up. When they did, my fingers rapidly navigated through the windows to buy tickets to the first game of the only series the Cubs would play in town.

When that day came, I excitedly drove to Hill, meeting another friend for a quick bite at Tortilla Coast (which many Hill staffers and former interns will remember fondly and, yet at the same time with disgust.) While indulging in the "fine" food, the clouds began to gather and the thunder rolled through the city streets. By the time we were supposed to head to the stadium, the heavens let loose and there was no chance of making it to the game. We waited for a half hour before deciding to head back to Virginia and find something else to do, anticipating a rain out for the game. Two hours later, with the rain still falling, a group of us decided to watch a movie and call the night a wash. Afterwards, however, we find out that they decided to play after all (who plays after a 2 1/2 hour delay anyway!?) and the Cubs were winning. Angry at the officials for having the audacity to play the game despite the torrential downpour that deterred hundreds (because no one really went to a Nats game) of fans from showing up, I proceeded to buy two more tickets. I couldn't get seats for the Saturday game, but I scored a couple for Sunday's series finale.

Sure enough, the Cubs fell to Washington that afternoon, setting the streak at four. The next year, I organized a group of co-worker to go to the Independence Day game against Washington at RFK stadium. It was an exciting day, with patriotic energy flowing through the stands and people actually showing up for the game. It was energetic as fans cheered and yelled and celebrated a National's victory. Of the four games played that weekend, I went to the one where the Cubs lost. Later that summer, I took a trip to Chicago to watch them take on the Giants. Barry Bonds was playing, not that it mattered, and was vociferously booed during his only at-bat. Not that it mattered. The Cubs still fell to San Francisco and I still left without a victory.

Last year was my first year living in Chicago. I managed to grab tickets to two games for their amazing season. This was a season of great hope. The Cubs ended with the best record in the National League, far and away beating opponents with breath-taking talent. There was the first no-hitter since Milt Pappas by Carlos Zambrano in a road game against Houston played in Milwaukee. And there was a great chance for me to finally see a Cubs win.

The first game I attended was the second game of the season. The Brewers were the main team to watch out for all season and they proved it that day, as the Cubs didn't show up at all, falling to Milwaukee, taking my streak to nine. In the next month I tried my luck again, and the Brew Crew was again the opponent. After the game, where Chicago came from behind in the seventh and creating a glimmer of hope, I became a life-long enemy of Milwaukee. My streak was at eight and I didn't have an opportunity to see them play again that season.

Which brings us to last night. The Nationals were in town and I landed two tickets to the game from an alumni association of mine (not the OU alumni association but from an internship I was a part of in 2002 called The Fund for American Studies.) I know the Cubs have been playing poorly as of late, but the Nationals were the worst team in baseball. Plus their manager is Jim Riggleman, the guy who lead the Cubs to their 1998 postseason appearance and then fell to mediocrity the next year. It was destiny. I sat as Carlos Zambrano gave up the first run of the game, feeling a little let down. I grew excited as Zambrano tied it up with a home run over the left-field ivy, just a few rows above the basket. Then the fifth inning arrived and I witnessed my first even grand slam. Unfortunately, it was off of a Zambrano pitch and put the Nationals up for good.

Nine games, no wins. Nine times. I can hear Principle Rooney right now, saying one more and I'll have to repeat my senior year. They are the Lovable Losers, I realize this. But there is no way that any person could possibly make it to this many games and see one team lose. It wasn't even in the same season, at the same ballpark, against the same opponents. There was variety to ensure that someone, anyone, would fall to the Cubs with me watching. But, sadly, I am a dark mark. Another plague that curses the Cubs.

I still have hope, and will still continue going to games. Because one of these days, they'll win. I can only hope.