Now in no way do I condone laughing at the misery of others, but in certain Seinfield-finale related instances, it is absolutely acceptable.
For example, laughing at the depleted Herald football team this afternoon after they fall victim to the Cardinal's balanced aerial and ground attack headed by yours truly is completely justified. The same applies when daring moped riders try showing off their driving skills in the middle of a snow storm and fall prey to the icy pavement.
But laughing at the agony of others has never been more sweet than in the unfolding drama that is taking place right now in the hearts of all Chicago Cubs fans. What was once believed to be destiny's team of 2004 is now forced to watch every ball and strike of the remaining wild card contender that will take place during the next week.
The reason I get so much pleasure from this is because when the season started, everyone joined the Illi-noise bandwagon and posed as a die-hard Cubs fan.
Even the coasties on Langdon were catching the fever as they replaced their once-trendy Yankees hats with the blue and red of Chicago's finest organization.
Now luckily for me, I don't have to deal with the stress of baseball in late September and October, as my beloved Brewers save their fans the suspense and annually become mathematically eliminated right around the time the Packers open their first mini-camp to make a smooth transition for the true Wisconsin sports fan.
Back to the soap opera. Things started to get a bit shaky when the Cubs' young ace Mark Prior landed himself on the DL.
Yet morale soon elevated with the acquisition of Nomar Ga... Garc... Garcy...- not-gonna-sign-with-you-guys-next year, from the Cubs equivalent in the AL, the Red Sox.
Cubbie fans then took their show on the road as they invaded my home field, Miller Park. We taught them how to drink before the game, and they consequently taught us how to play it on the field.
But things have recently taken a turn for the worse as Mr. Sosa has emerged as one of the best pinch hitters in the NL, as his play has declined faster than the cork spurting out of his bat. They now find themselves a full game behind the Houston Astros (as of Thurs. 4:57 p.m.) in the fight for the lone wild card spot.
The only positive thing that came with this sudden decline is that it separated the real from the fake.
True colors have been revealed, and for that, I applaud anyone who sticks with their team during both success and failure. However, things don't get any easier, as the club concludes its season with three games on the road against the Atlanta Braves who have already punched their post season ticket.
Now the questions arise: Can Cub fans realistically handle another late-season disappointment? What will happen if they are forced to chalk another number up on the \years since the World Series board""? At least I can catch the Brewers World Series games against the Cardinals on ESPN Classic, however, I don't think anyone bothered to film the 1945 series for you guys.
Nevertheless, as I take time to reflect on the situation, I find myself quietly rooting for the Cubs in the same way I cheer for the baby gazelle to run away from the cheetah on the Discovery Channel. Because in reality, not even Bartman's head on a platter can come close to filling the void left by countless years of frustration.
I look forward to at least a playoff appearance, just because I anxiously await the possibility of another late season blunder. I am willing to wait longer for the fall, because the joy that comes with watching it will only increase with time. And face it, if any team and fans are more prepared to make excuses why it all fell apart again, it is the unique fans from Chicago.
