Within hours of the Cubs annual autumn meltdown, something unique and unprecedented occurred at Wrigley Field. The mocking silence of the billy goat's ghost was replaced by the roar and rumble of cats--bulldozers that is--tearing asunder the sacred turf to install a new drainage system.
An estimated 7,500 tons of dirt will be removed and shipped to "two dumps in DuPage County." Dump...as in garbage dump? Intrigued, I spent several hours trying to find out exactly where the dirt is being dumped without success. Russ Carlton in the Cubs Public Relations office handed me off to Katelyn Thrall, Media Services Coordinator, who wouldn't answer specific questions, such as "Will the dirt be used to cover a sanitary landfill?" Instead she e-mailed me a "Wrigley Field Renovation Fact Sheet" with a note, "Here is all the information I have at the time." In my years as a columnist I've learned that anytime an organization big enough to have a Media Services Coordinator won't answer simple, direct questions you should always suspect the worst. So, I'm betting on garbage dump, where a three to six inch layer of dirt must be applied at the end of each day to keep the smell (methane) down and vermin (rats) from eating organic (rotting food) waste.
That sure doesn't sound like a very glamorous ending for the hallowed mud that Gayle Sayers slugged through to score six touchdowns against the San Francisco 49ers on December 12, 1965. That game consecrated Wrigley Field's dirt in the heart and soul of every Bears fan.
But it gets worse. The Chicago Tribune reported that bulldozers savaging the former gridiron unearthed the concrete goal post supports from the south end zone--the very same ones which da Bears used when they beat the New York Giants 14-10 in the 1963 NFL Championship game. And what was the final disposition of these sacred relics? Will they be enshrined with reverence in Canton, Ohio at the Pro Football Hall of Fame? Nope. "They told me to toss them out," Roger Bossard, who is overseeing the project, said.
Could the Cubs possibly do anything else to guarantee extending their 100 year curse?
Well, I think they actually found a way to damn the team for all eternity. What most baseball fans don't realize is there were more than just the lovable losers on the field. There were the ashes of hundreds, maybe even thousands, of their most loyal fans grinding their way into the fabric of the Cubs uniforms every time a player kicked up a cloud of dust. Yep, every time Alfonsio Soraino got up and dusted himself off after making a diving catch on the warning track, he was knocking more than mere top soil off his uniform--he was scattering the earthly remains of someone's Uncle Louie and Aunt Mabel to the wind and, if it was blowing just right, into some unfortunate fan's beer.
I'm serious. For years, the Cubs have permitted families and friends to scatter the ashes of cremated loved ones on the field. How do I know this for a fact? When my in-laws were called home to the Lord, their bodies were cremated and their ashes returned to us in simple metal containers. After a suitable mourning period, we were left with the question of what should we do with these last vestiges of their bodies?
Acting on a hunch, I contacted the Cubs and learned that they permitted the scattering of ashes on the outfield warning track. I was told it was so popular they had to lay down rules. The ceremony had to be dignified and respectful to both the deceased and the Friendly Confines. Absolutely no musical accompaniments, other than taps for servicemen, no videotaping, and no alcohol. And the scattering could only take place on days when the Cubs were on the road. This seemed like the perfect solution to our dilemma. Fred and Dot bled Cubby blue. They watched every game with a fervor unmatched this side of a revival tent.
Thankfully, we opted not to go with the Wrigley Field option, lest they now be residing in a DuPage County dump.
Incredibly, I have not heard a single peep of protest over this desecration of a bona-fide graveyard. Whilst the media focuses their attention on the Federal Aviation Association's plans to move with respect and dignity the remains of 1,300 now interned at St. Johannes Cemetery--so they can expand O'Hare Field--the final essence of an unknown number of Cubs fans have been callously and capriciously thrown out like mere dirt. I did some checking and found the weight of cremated remains ranges between 4 to 8 pounds. Using six pounds as an average and one hundred scatterings a year for two decades that would mean 1,200 pounds of Cub fans remains have been defiled. Among this truckload of earthly remains are the ashes of legendary first baseman Charlie Grimm (photo) and singer/composer Steve Goodman who wrote the anthem "Go Cubs Go" and, rather appropriately it seems, "A Dying Cubs Fan's Last Request" (poem below).
And what of the Catholics whose ashes were scattered there to await Christ's triumphant return? The revised funeral rites, Order of Christian Funerals, in use since 1989, specify the cremated remains "should be treated with the same respect we give to the body of the deceased." Somehow being dumped in a DuPage County dump just doesn't seem very dignified.
Next season marks 100 years since the Cubs have won the World Series. That's a record of failure unmatched by any team, in any sport, anywhere in the world. Ever. So whether the Cubs wait until September to collapse, or take back their rightful place as the doormat of the National League on opening day, remember it's neither Bartman nor a billy goat that has cursed them for all eternity, only a lack of respect for their fans--living and dead.
A Dying Cubs Fan's Last Request
Build a big fire on home plate out of your Louisville Sluggers baseball bats,
And toss my coffin in
Let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow
From the prevailing 30 mile an hour southwest wind
When my last remains go flying over the left-field wall
Will bid the bleacher bums adieu
And I will come to my final resting place, out on Waveland Avenue
Steve Goodman 1983 (awaiting the Rapture in a DuPage County dump)
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