Just what I needed

The 1984 Cubs were something special

Today, more than any day I can think of, was one when I really needed a happy thought. So much was riding on the presidential election—and by now its disastrous results are well known to everyone—and the letdown stings beyond anything I can describe right now. As I said to my younger daughter in a text this morning, it’s like that feeling that comes from realizing that you don’t really know someone the way you thought you did, and yet it’s your entire country. I’ll go so far as to say there’s never been a harder day—at least in my lifetime—to feel good about the USA.

So when the card above arrived in last night’s mail—a gift from one of the oldest and best friends I have—it brought a smile to my face. One of the reasons I limit my Substack writing to baseball cards from the 1970s is because I wanted to keep the Donruss and the Fleer and the Upper Deck cards out of the picture. Topps had a near-total monopoly on baseball cards until 1981, when Fleer and Donruss won the right to produce their own sets of cards.

Donruss cards had the years listed on the front of their cards, which is something Topps never did. And the 1984 season coincided with my 16th birthday and my junior year in high school. It was the summer of Purple Rain and the freedom that came from either driving a car, or being able to get rides from friends that could. And it was the summer I got my first “real job” of bagging groceries in a supermarket near where I lived.

On the second Saturday that I ever worked at this job, Ryne Sandberg became a legend by hitting not one but two game-tying home runs against Bruce Sutter on a Saturday game at Wrigley Field. Since it was televised nationally (which was a big deal back in 1984) and the Cubs went on to win the game in extra innings, it still is known as “The Sandberg Game.” I would have loved to watch it as it happened, but the best I could do is listen to my younger brother recap it for me on the car ride home. It was my first exposure to what life as a working man could sometimes entail.

The Cubs really hit their stride that summer, in part because of Sandberg’s emergence as a star player, and in part because Rick Sutcliffe had the kind of extended run that every pitcher dreams about but almost none will ever achieve. Harry Caray was announcing all of their games with his breathless enthusiasm, and their lineup was stacked with players like Jody Davis and Gary Matthews and Ron Cey. Cubs fans hadn’t seen a winning team in my lifetime, and when they clinched their division title in a road game in Pittsburgh, it felt like the sky was the limit.

But it didn’t end up that way, as I’ve alluded to before in this space and in others. Steve Garvey was a big part of the reason why, and I’m glad that he won’t be spending any of whatever days he has left on this earth anywhere near the U.S. Senate. As terrible as yesterday’s election results were, I can take some small comfort in knowing that Garvey will go down to a resounding defeat.

Sometimes, like the Rolling Stones once told us, you get what you need. I sure didn’t get what I wanted yesterday, but I needed something to remind me of happier times, and to show me that there’s more to life than the men who seek to control all of our lives. Many thanks to my friend Franklin for making that point clear.