For those of you who don’t know me, you will err on the side of disbelief. “She won’t actually do any of those things,” you will say to yourself while reading my list. What I need for you to picture is my poor wife who will receive this list through Facebook Messenger while I’m at work and, upon seeing the title, think to herself, “Aw, shit. Here we go.” I am true to my word and my word is that 80% of this list will happen with a few thrown in just to demonstrate my level of dedication to this process but that are not feasible for reasons like “Body doesn’t contort in that manner” and “Is a licensed professional who cannot get arrested.” Ready?
- Cry like a baby. You know how they say that actors and actresses have special tricks and techniques they use to get themselves to cry on demand? (I have no idea if this is true, but let’s pretend like it is.) This is my trick. I can give myself goosebumps and get teary-eyed at the very idea of the Cubs winning the World Series. The thought of Joe Buck calling the final out and announcing the Cubs have won plays in my head like it has already happened. (This is literally the only thing about Joe Buck that I like and it is imaginary so add those two together and sign my petition to let Len and JD call the World Series if the Cubs make it.)
- Call my dad. Probably so we can listen to each other cry like babies.
- Buy Cubs jerseys for my dogs. If they don’t have these, I will find a seamstress and get them to make custom fitted jerseys for each of my three dogs. Then I will take my dogs to a professional photographer and have my picture taken with them while we all wear our respective jerseys. In this picture, I imagine my wife being there with me but standing off to the side in the “I married her before I knew this about her” type of position.
- Wear my Cubs flag like a cape and bike down Second St. in Winona. I know that “The Incredibles” taught us that capes are dangerous. And if there is a way to get injured wearing a cape and riding a bike, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will experience it. But I will not care. I feel like a Cubs win will act as a salve for all wounds, current and future. The sheer amount of dopamine flood in my brain will protect me from all accidents.
- Lay in my front yard wrapped in my Cubs fleece blanket singing “Go Cubs Go” for a full five minutes. The neighbors across the street are also Cubs fans so they’ll get it. The best part is that we live in Minnesota so everyone is way too nice to make fun of me to my face for this. They are, however, likely to call the police for a disturbance, but I trust the police will understand.
- Call my grandmother. She should just share in the joy even though she won’t acknowledge the MAGNITUDE OF SUCH AN HISTORIC EVENT and we will instead talk about the weather. But it’s as close as I’ll get to calling my grandpa.
- Take random selfies and post them on Facebook. One of these selfies might actually show me levitating. It will be epic.
- Tell my wife she can’t post the video she took of me crying like a baby. <– This will hurt my street cred.
- Wear my Bryant jersey to work. Look, there’s no dress code and it’s time I exploit that to its fullest. Besides, this will allow everyone I come in contact with to CONGRATULATE ME because I have somehow earned this. My first live Cubs game was Shawn Boskie getting lit up by the Pittsburgh Pirates and I somehow fell in love with them even more that day. Earned. This.
- Wear my Arrieta jersey the next day. Please see above statement about there being no dress code.
- Wear my Santo jersey and Heyward, Rizzo, Contreras, and Russell shirseys in subsequent days until they fire me. Who cares if I’m employed? THE CUBS WON THE WORLD SERIES.
- Get a Cubs-themed tattoo. I have always wanted one, but at some point in my tattooing history, I promised myself that I would only do it if they won the whole thing. Last night, I came up with a cool idea and identified an artist who could probably do an outstanding job and all I have to do is drive to Massachusetts to get it and that seems perfectly reasonable.
- Text my brother randomly for the following 48 hours with gifs of the Cubs celebrating on the field. Like, I’ll wake up at 2 a.m. and just fire one off, just so he knows and remembers the joy over and over and over again.
- Drink nothing but Chicago beer for a year. This seems like a huge sacrifice, I know. But for the playoffs, I bought only Goose Island 312 and IPA because that’s what they sell at Wrigley and I have serious mental health issues that make this seem like the only way to watch the games.
- Get a pet goat. Because the curse will be dead, friends.
I have been preparing my whole life for this event. Make it happen, boys.
