When I tell you that baseball is life in my family, it’s not an exaggeration. There’s no clear-cut line between religion and baseball where I come from. I was the girl that my mother always wanted, but instead of playing with dolls I played with a baseball glove and ball.  I guess you could say that I’m a tomboy, but my family is to blame for that and if there’s an organization that gets to share in that blame it would be the Chicago Cubs.

            I have been a Cubs fan since the day I born - sort of made that way by the baseball gods if you believe in that sort of thing.  It was inevitable because I was born into a family that shares a pretty unique history with the Chicago Cubs. My great, great-grandfather, my great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my father have all played for the Cubs. Even my brother plays for them now. That’s five generations that have played for Chicago so it’s kind of in my blood. And being a fan truly is a family affair. Some people have generations of fans in their family; I have a family with generations of players.  It’s kind of a given that we’re big Chicago Cub fans and why wouldn’t we be if the men in your family keep playing for the same team, but we’re fans because we’ve never been able to find any better team to cheer for. Not even the Yankees of old were good enough and to be honest there’s no greater faith than being a Cubs fan. And like all fans, we have a love and hate relationship with the Cubs, but no matter what we’re still fans and there are no greater sports fans than Cub fans. I figured that out a long time ago covering other teams for the newspaper I work for and when I’m with Cub fans I always know that I’m home.

            My name is Amy Larson and I’m a sports writer for the Chicago Sun-Times.  I’ve always loved writing and there wasn’t any other kind of news that I wanted to cover other than sports, especially the Cubs. It was probably destiny for me to become a sports writer covering the Cubs, if you even believe in destiny. Then again maybe I just didn’t want to do anything else. Why would I, this is a great job and I get to see the Cubs for free, what can be better than that? Maybe sex, but only if he’s a Cub fan and looks good in “cubby blue.”

            People think of me as a super fan for the Cubs, and I’m fine with that. People like to ask me if I’ve ever had my heart broken because I don’t do the dating scene anymore. I tell them my heart gets broken every October and the winter is unbearable because I’m reminded that it’s not baseball season. But when the spring gets here and the new baseball season starts my love is renewed with the only true love I have, Chicago Cubs’ baseball. To tell you the truth I’m okay with that part of my life too.

            I’ve never written a novel before; never had the ambition to like most journalists, but it’s another thing that was inevitable. I have a great story and for me the only thing you can do with a great story is write it. Dr. Fairbanks, a literature professor I had in college once told me that we all eventually write our family story because it’s the truest thing that we know. We can write all sorts of stories, but the one that we know best is our story of growing up and the journey of how we got here. For me that story is wrapped up in the history of the Chicago Cubs and what it means to live and die as a fan. The thing is as a Cubs fan I have an extended family because as fans we’re all family. I never realized that until a couple of years ago when I walked into a Dallas bar and met some other fans. It was also the first time I realized how important my story was, not only in Chicago Cubs history, but also for me to see how extraordinary it really is. The reason I’m writing this is to share that story – the good, the bad, the ugly, and all the tragic circumstances that happened along the way. But that’s mostly within my own family.

            In the Larson family we’re far from perfect and probably more tragic than other families. I can’t even tell you what a fairy tale is because I’ve never known one like some families have. The truth is every one of us from my great, great grandfather to my brother are broken and battered living with the misguided notion that we’re legendary because our family history is wrapped up in the Cubs mythology, if you pardon the metaphor. The men in my family are just lucky to share the uniform of the same professional baseball team. I guess what I’m really saying is that we’re nothing special, but everyone of us have been a part of great moments in Cubs history and we did it as a family even if it some of us have only lived through it in the stories passed on by our ancestors. It’s not any different than generations of fan that have shared those same moments – my story really is the story of every fan that has watched with passion their beloved Chicago Cubs and then had their heart broken in October.

            However, there is one aspect that fans won’t get – what it’s like living with the men who helped shape the history of Cubs and experienced all the heartbreaks first hand. So for me this story doesn’t start with the disappointment of being five outs away from the World Series only to have it snatched away by a bumbling fan. My story starts with a broken down middle -aged man who threw his career away for too many good times when he was so close to greatness that he could touch it. This story starts with my father Steve Larson who pitched for the Cubs from 1982-1990 and then later finished up his career with the Texas Rangers until he was kicked out of Major League Baseball in 1993 for drug abuse.

     A few years ago I had just graduated college and finally took a full time job with Sun-Times in Chicago. While in college I had been doing some freelance work for them and it felt good to have a full time job with them especially when it was my dream job. Unfortunately I couldn’t play major league baseball – it was still a boys sport. After graduation I decided to spend Christmas with my dad because despite all of his faults he was always the biggest supporter of my dream and I knew that he would be pleased that I got a full time job with the paper as a sports writer. I thought it would be nice to spend time with him, but I was wrong and the holidays wouldn’t be that Rockwellian scene from the movies. My dad still liked to drink and he still had a temper especially when he thought my mother was trying to get him to meddle in his kids lives. What he should or shouldn’t do when it came to his children was still a sore point with him and my mother even though they had been divorced for fifteen years. This time he was being asked by her through me to help my brother with his career while he languished in the minors.

            I have a twin brother by the name of Ryan, who like our father is a pitcher and he’s in the Chicago Cubs organization waiting for his call to the show. That’s his dream, to pitch for the Cubs just like our dad did and our grandfather who pitched for them in the 1960’s. Ryan had played a few of years of college baseball at the University of Iowa before getting drafted in baseball. He could have gone straight from high school, but our grandfather convinced him that he wasn’t ready so he waited and got a couple of years of college under his belt. Ryan also thought that if he waited and got some experience that he wouldn’t have to wait for very long before getting called up. He thought he could be another 20 year old superstar like Greg Maddux or Kerry Wood. Turned out he was wrong even though some of us think that he’s being held back for personal reasons – not against him but because of my dad. That’s where this story starts.

            It was the Christmas of 2006 just before the 2007 season and Ryan had been languishing in the minors going on three years now. He still hadn’t even been invited to spring training even though he was drafted in the first round back in 2003, which was a little unusual for a first round draft pick, but those things always go by recommendations from other coaches and managers in the system. For three years it had been recommended that he wasn’t ready. Of course it was by the same skipper in the minors who made those recommendations and the same manager who had managed the Cubs for three losing seasons. It was a little biased if you ask me, but then again I’m his sister and can be accused of the same thing. While I did want to see my dad that year for Christmas, I really wanted to talk to him about Ryan’s situation – I had, had a little prodding from my mother as well.

            My father and I had a nice meal and started to talk about things, they were the usual events that family tried to catch up on, but were not always serious. It was typical family small talk.  Then I brought the conversation around to Ryan after my father asked how he was doing. They didn’t talk much and hadn’t since our parents divorced. As the years went by they became more like strangers than father and son and both of them were too stubborn to do anything about it. But of course they would ask about one another through me – some symbolism of how much they really did care for one another even though they didn’t let it show. I guess things are like that between fathers and sons.

 At some point in the conversation I told my dad that Ryan was still in Double AA ball and probably wouldn’t be invited to spring training again. However my father already knew that – he kept tabs on Ryan even though he didn’t tell anybody, but he still wouldn’t get involved. My father tried to ignore what I was saying about Ryan hoping that he wouldn’t have to talk about it - but I asked him in the most honest tone I could find and that’s how the real conversation started. It’s where this story begins because if this didn’t happen then I might not have met the person who inspired me to tell this story.  And so this is how it begins.

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             Amy looked at her father with an honest look and asked him -“Dad, do you even care what’s going on with Ryan?”

            “Why would you ask that, of course I do?”

            “You act like you don’t care, that’s why I ask?”

            Steve looked at his daughter who now had a disgruntled look on her face and replied. “Just because I don’t want to have this conversation doesn’t mean that I don’t care.”

            “You know the sad thing is Dad, you could help him.”

            “What can I do, I’m not the manager, and I don’t work in the Cubs system so I really don’t have a say.”

            “You still have connections, you still know people that don’t hate you.”

            Steve smiled at the sarcasm. He said to Amy. “While there might be a few people that don’t hate my guts, it’s not my place. Besides I hear that they are hiring a new manager. Ryan might have better luck with that one.”

            “Dad you know that the recommendation will come from Ryan’s skipper on whether he should get an invite to sprint training.”

            “And who’s still the skipper of the Tennessee Smokies?”

            “It’s Jody.”

            Steve smiled at his daughter with a sarcastic smile. He replied to her. “And you know that he still hates my guts.”

            “He could’ve gotten over it by now. “Do you really think that’s likely? Stubborn baseball men don’t forget.”

            Amy sighed and then got up to pour herself a drink from her father’s living room bar. Steve has already been drinking scotch and was pretty much lit by now. She liked scotch just like her old man and it was pretty much the only thing that was going to help the conversation, at least that was her thinking. She said to her dad.

            “You could at least try and do something.”

            “And you can leave it alone…daughter.”

            Amy never liked it when he called her daughter in that tone. It annoyed her just as much as hearing fingernails scratch up and down on a chalkboard.” She replied in an angry tone. “Look old man don’t be flip about this…he’s your son for godsake…that alone should get you to help him.”

            Steve slammed his drink on the bar counter in his living room that connected to the kitchen area in his condo. He stared at his daughter with a look of rage in his eyes. He paused, not saying anything for a moment. Amy was the first to say something. She shot her father a dirty look and said.

            “Say it, you know you want to.”

            After a long pause Steve replied.  “I’m not giving into your bullshit and I’m not going to say what you want me to. You can blame me all you want for what happened years ago, but Ryan is a grown up. He can make his own mistakes and pay for them just like I did. And that also goes for getting himself out the messes he got himself into.”

            Amy’s look turned to sadness instead of anger. Her eyes even started to well up with tears. Then she said. “That’s the thing dad; with his current situation he’s not paying for his mistakes…he’s paying for yours.” 

            Steven Larson, the once great pitcher for the Cubs, didn’t say anything. All he did was throw his glass of scotch against the wall in anger, shattering the glass and scaring Amy. She didn’t even wait to yell at her dad. She grabbed her purse and stormed out of the condo. Amy got her car and peeled out the driveway trying to reach 60 mph before she was completely in the street. She drove away nearly hitting two parked cars in the process. Steven didn’t even go after her. With complete disregard for the shattered glass, he just poured himself another drink and turned on the TV.

Amy drove around North Dallas trying to cool her temper. She was still hot with anger and knew that she didn’t need to talk to anyone or it wouldn’t be pretty. After an hour of driving around she ended up in Richardson Texas, a suburb north of Dallas. That’s when she decided to get a drink and she drove into the parking lot of the first bar she could find. It was a pool hall and Irish Bar all rolled up into one, something only Texas could do. She was also fond of pool.  After all, part of working her way through college was hustling drunk guys in pool within the bars around Wrigley field. She was good at pool and most guys never thought a 5 foot 4 inch girl could take them in a game that was mostly played by men. It was the perfect hustle and when you look cute while playing, guys never pay attention to the money that their losing.  The place she wandered into was called Lochranns. It was spacious and looked like a Dallas Cowboys bar, the kind of place that nobody would ever talk baseball, but as turned out she couldn’t be more wrong.

            Amy tried to sneak in quietly and head to the bar, but she was wearing her reversible Cubs Team Jacket and it made her stand out. It was unseasonably cold during Christmas that year and her grandfather, Jack, had gotten her the jacket. She wore it any chance she got, even in Texas where it may not be that welcome As she walked in, Amy made about ten yards on her way to bar before someone recognized the jacket and said “Cool jacket…you’re a Cubs fan.”

            Amy looked over at the guy who said that. He was standing with some other people, a couple of women and couple of other guys. One of the guys was immediately noticeable, not because he was tall, but because he deep blue eyes, which could clearly be seen even in a dim lighted bar. Amy couldn’t take her eyes of him. She continued to stare at him while replying back to the guy who made the comment. Amy said.

            “Yeah, unfortunately I’m a Cubs fan…doomed to be a lovable loser for the rest of my life.”

            The guy laughed and said to her. “Just because they haven’t won a World Series in a hundred years doesn’t mean that it’s all bad.”

            “It’s only been 98 years since they last won a world series, but who’s counting.”

            “It feels like a hundred years, I figure we’re about due to break the curse.”

            Amy smiled and replied. “I have a father and grandfather that certainly would agree since they’ve both been part of the organization and both been close to getting that championship.”

            The guy reached out his hand and introduced himself. His name was Shane. He invited Amy to sit with him and his friends. They took a seat near the bar and started talking sports. Shane wanted to talk about the Cubs since it was apparent that Amy was a fan. He started asking her questions about the club like what she thought their chances were in 2006. She answered with the best of her knowledge, which was a great deal considering who she was and what she did for a living. The other guy in the group that Amy kept staring at seemed interested in the conversation, but it was also apparent that he didn’t know much about baseball. Amy finally asked him. “So do you follow the Cubs at all like your friend Shane?”

            He smiled the southern gentleman smile at Amy; it took her breath just looking at it.  He said to her. “Not really, never been much of a baseball man.”

            “What, its America’s past time, how can you not follow it?”

            “Honey, I’m from Texas, the pastime around here is football. In fact it’s pretty much religion in this state.”

            Amy laughed and then replied “I forgot - I’m south of the Mason Dixon line…football will always be more important here. You at least like baseball don’t you?”

            “Of course, but the Texas Rangers don’t give us anything to cheer about, so what’s the point.”

            “You can become a Cubs Fan – it will change your life.”

            “He smiled with all the charm of a southern gentleman and again it took Amy’s breath away. Finally he said to her. “I think we should introduce ourselves if we’re going to continue to flirt with one another.”

            Amy gave him a laugh and said. “I guess you’re right if we are going to flirt with one another.” 

            “I’m Chris and you are?”

            Amy just realized that she never introduced herself since they sat down and started talking about the Cubs. She looked at Chris and everybody else at the table and said. “I’m Amy Larson.”

            Shane’s wife, Lisa asked her in her thick Texas accent “So what do you do, Amy, up in Chicago?”

            “I’m a sports writer for the Chicago Sun -Times.”

            Shane gave her a weird look and paused for a moment trying to figure something out. Amy asked him what was wrong and after another brief moment he said in a boisterous tone.

            “Man, I know who you are. You’re dad and grandfather played for the Cubs. Your grandfather was Jack Larson and your dad was Steve Larson.”

            Amy smiled at him and said. ”That’s right, I’m the granddaughter of the great Jack Larson and the daughter of Steve Larson.”

            Chris gave her a surprised look because he honestly did not know about her family history, but he was intrigued. Shane just got more excited and commented to everybody sitting around them that they were sitting with a celebrity. Amy was a little bit embarrassed because she had this kind of thing happen a lot, but she laughed it off because for the most part the people she was drinking with seemed cool. Shane asked her. “Man, what’s it like being in your family, I mean you got to live with two great pitchers for the Cubs.”

            Amy smiled and said. “It was an experience, I grew up around baseball and lots of people were jealous of me because of who my family was.”

            “Hell I would be jealous.” Shane said to her. “That’s so cool. Then it again it must of sucked too considering your dad threw his career away for drugs and alcohol.”

            Lisa replied to Shane. “Honey, be nice. Don’t be rude to our guest.”

            “What, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I mean it’s not like he got caught using steroids, but he did throw his career away being a coke head.”

            Chris gave Shane a dirty look and said. “Dude, you’re being a dick.”

            Shane was about to say something mean to Chris, but Amy interrupted trying to prevent a fight. She said. “Look it’s okay, he’s right. My dad did throw his career because of drug and alcohol abuse.  He did what he did, but he was still a good pitcher when he was with the Cubs. And he’s still my dad and always will be no what matter insults are hurled at me because of him.”

            Shane had a remorseful look on his face. He said to Lisa. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean anything by it.”

            “It is, what it is. My father wasn’t perfect…still isn’t.”

            Chris looked at Amy and asked her a sincere and honest question to lighten the mood.  He asked her. “Did you have a cool childhood being the daughter and granddaughter of baseball stars?”

Amy smiled and replied. “Honestly…It was fucking awesome.”

“I would imagine it would have to be.”

“ I had a baseball life and spent my childhood at the ballpark. There’s no better playground in the world.”

Everybody at the table just smiled at Amy. Shane even a had a look of jealousy and what baseball fan wouldn’t – to grow up at the baseball park especially Wrigley Field; it’s the purest form of heaven one can find on this earth if you’re a baseball fan. Chris asked Amy. “Do you have any other relatives that play professional baseball?”

Amy gave a small laugh and said. “Actually I have more than two relatives who play for the Cubs. My great, great grandfather played for them from 1906 to 1921 and my great grandfather played for the Cubs from 1936 to 1953.”

“Really!” Shane said. “You have four generations that have played for the Cubs?”

“Actually I have five. My brother plays for the Tennessee Smokies, Double AA ball.”

Shane’s draw dropped and then he said. “You’re last name is Wrigley, isn’t it?”

Amy laughed. Chris had a confused look and then Amy told him that the Wrigley’s who started the gum company used to own the Cubs.

            “I wish they never would have sold the Cubs. It would be pretty cool to own the Chicago Cubs…greatest dream job ever.”

            “I think it would be pretty cool to own any sports team.” Chris said.

            “No, not just any team. Owning the Cubs would be as close to perfect as you can get especially as a sports fan.” Amy replied to Chris with big smile on her face.

            “It’s just a baseball team.”

            Shane and Lisa gave Chris a dirty look. Amy just stared at him with the most serious look she could find deep down.  Then she replied.“They are more than just a baseball team. It’s the perfect love of a summer day and the joy of visiting a big baseball park because the Wrigley field is the purest form of baseball.  Watching the Cubs play is living poetry and all the joys of the being a kid wrapped up together. And to top it all off cheering for them is the greatest faith in the word because no matter how much hope you have they’ll end up breaking your heart, but in the end they’ll find a way to give you hope. Not many sports teams can do that. “

            Chris smiled and said. “I guess, I don’t get it about the Cubs.”

            “No you don’t, but if you get to know me you will.”

            Everybody at the table just laughed. Chris was an unfortunate soul who just didn’t get it about being a Cubs fan, but most people born in Texas don’t. For the rest of the evening they all sat at the table drinking beer and telling their favorite Cub stories. Amy told most of the stories and Chris just sat and gladly listened since he didn’t have any stories about the Cubs. Somewhere through the conversation Amy found her joy again – she was able to laugh and getting to tell her favorite kind of story, stories about the Cubs. Also through the conversation Christ noticed something; there was something mesmerizing about Amy. She noticed the same thing in him.    

            The four of them sat and talked until the bar closed down at 2:00am and they had to finally be kicked out. As they were leaving Amy asked Chris, “You know you never told me what you did.”

            “I’m a lawyer. I take the bar exam in a couple of months.”

            “Somehow, I can see that in you.”

            “I like to think that people can’t read me that well.”

            “Oh I just mean that it suits you. So you don’t really like baseball, huh?”

             “I just never got into it like I did football, but I don’t think it’s a boring sport.”

            Amy smiled at him and said. “You ever come to Chicago; I’ll take you to a game and show you how fun it can be.”

            Chris leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Then he said. “I would like that. In the mean time you should start writing a book about your family. Sounds like to me it’s one hell of a story and fans would enjoy it. I would read it.”

            Amy smiled at him and said. “Maybe one day I will.”  She kissed Chris on the cheek and said goodbye to Lisa and Shane. She even forgot why she was mad at her Dad. The next day she was on a plane back to Chicago. Pitchers and catchers would report in 6 weeks and that meant for her baseball season was starting. Amy Larson would have plenty of things to write about.