If the shoe fits, don't hate me. I still love you.

There are many things that I want to be that I'm not. I'm not a confident guy. I have extreme self-esteem issues. I have been to different therapists and nothing has worked. Of course, it doesn't help that I stop going after a few months. This time, even though I'm not entirely sure it's working, I'm sticking it out and have managed to last for more than a year. 

I get advice from the people who are truly close to me. My family, the handful of people who I consider to be true friends, colleagues, shrink... I know they care and want me to do well and be happy. I'm not stupid enough not to see that. I know they love me. But there's this hump. 

Pictured: Hump

It's a matter of self-esteem. I know. I'm just not confident. I keep second guessing myself, always wondering if I'm doing the right thing or acting in the right way. I'm a good guy, I don't want to hurt anybody, even though some people in my life seem to get a kick out of kicking me in the balls every chance they get. And there are many people in my life who do that. I can't imagine why. And it's not because I'm such a great person or whatever, I know I can be an asshole and my issues are such that I will often shut down and not bother dealing with what's going on. I can't understand how somebody gets so much joy out of fucking with somebody else and being a dick. I really can't. And to do it with glee, fully aware that they're affecting somebody else in a negative way and interfering with somebody else's happiness. Seriously, what is the fucking point of that?

Which brings me to the next issue. Facebook Self Fellatio. 

Ron Jeremy: Can suck his own penis. In case you didn't know.

 I think I've alreay written about this, and if somebody reading who is actually my friend (real-life or Facebook-wise) is offended by this, I sincerely apologize. I'm not writing to be mean or insulting. It's like the flip-flop thing. I hate them with a passion, but I won't hate you for wearing them. Well, maybe a little. 

But I digress. 

I can never be confident enough to "Like" my own Facebook shit. Even though I laugh at some of what I post (or steal from other places, whatever), I will never click the "Like" button on my own shit. Seeing my News Feed say: "__________ liked his own photo" or "_________ liked his own status" annoys the ever-loving shit out of me, almost as much as people who post about religion or fucking quotes from the Dalai Lama or whatever cookie-cutter bullshit feel-good philosophy is all the rage these days. Come on, people, be real. There is no magic formula. Most of the times, life fucking sucks, don't pretend it doesn't. I don't believe true happiness exists and if you tell me it does or if you tell me you are 100% truly happy I will only believe that you are a goddamn liar.

I understand why people pretend it does though. Sure, it's comforting to think that it does, but I don't think the human mind works that way. I don't believe that the brain or the human spirit (if that even exists) can ever be satisfied enough to say that. I don't think animals (and we're an animal, don't forget) or instincts can ever be satisfied to that degree. 

Seriously, cut that shit out. Resist the urge to click on that "Like" button no matter how impressed you are by your own joke, your own picture, or your own cloying, overbearing, and condescending advice. Because when you tell me how to be happy, and how God can solve all my problems, you're not helping. You're being condscending. 

And a douchebag. 

I'm just a jealous guy.

I'm jealous that you don't tag me in your Facebook posts, but you tag everybody else. 

I'm jealous that you're not around and that the people in your life probably don't realize how awesome you are. 

I'm jealous of your doorman when he says good morning, and the customers who walk into your store and get to ask you a question and hear your voice. 

I'm jealous of the guy at the fast food place who gets to take your order. 

I'm jealous of the people in the club who get to see you smile. 

I'm jealous of your dog whom you chase around happily with you camera because he gets to hear your laugh. 

I'm jealous of whoever was staning next to you at the concert because they got to hear your sing. 

I'm jealous of whoever lit the last cigarrette you smoked and the waiter or bartender who handed you the last bear you drank. 

I'm jealous of whoever it is you're thinking about right this second. 

 

I'm sorry. 

 

The Most Awesomest.

Doing a search on Google Images for "The Most Awesome Thing Ever" yields some interesting results. Among them, aliens riding dinosaurs and shooting lasers at each other:

You have Mario, Luigi, Wario, and Waluigi as drawn with "rage" faces. 

You have Batman fighting a shark with a lightsaber (my personal favorite). 

And the number 1 "Most Awesome Thing Ever" picture is... this:

A bear. On a cliff of some sort, wearing a bright blue belt, and shooting multiple colored lasers from its eyes... at least I think they're lasers, they look very yarn-like, which is really weird. 

So how does this get to the top of the list? What the hell is it? The list I'm referring to is the number 1 search result for "the most awesome thing ever" on Google. It's not just any rinky dink list. It's frickin' Google! Yes, bears are awesome, no doubt... and if those really are lasers shooting out of its eyes, it most certainly belongs near the top, but who the hell knows. 

As I'm perusing through the results, there are some trends to take into account. Apparently, "The Most Awesome Thing Ever" has to contain one or more of the following, in any order, in any combination. 

1. Dinosaurs
2. Lasers/Lightsabers
3. Batman
4. Large animals (i.e. a shark, a bear, an elephant)
5. Mythical creatures (i.e. a unicorn, a centaur)

And yes, those are all awesome things. Especially lasers. And Batman. 

 

Yeah, Batman. 

Times Like These.

According to Wikipedia, which is never wrong, International Relations is the study of relationships between countries, including the roles of states, inter-governmental organizations (IGOs), international nongovernmental organizations (INGOs), non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and multinational corporations (MNCs).

I've taught the subject for the past 3 semesters (well, they're not really semesters here, but there is no translation for "cuatrimestre" to be found anywhere on the internets, so let's pretend they're just semesters and be done with it, ok?), and last night, for the first time, my group participated in my school's annual Model UN event. My classroom was assigned the countries of Colombia, France, Germany, and the United Kingdom. Three other classrooms were assigned the rest of the countries that belong to the United Nations Security Council. The issue on hand was "IRAN'S NUCLEAR CRISIS" (capital letters are mine). Students had to vote and debate according to their country's politics, history, diplomatic relations, etc. In my life I had only been to one of these events, but it wasn't the same. I think that time there were only 6 or 7 countries who were represented, not the 15 who are in the Security Council.

Anyway, there were 3 judges present who would choose first, second, and third place winners, based on arbitrary and incredibly subjective things like "CLARITY, ARGUMENTS, PROPOSAL, and NEGOTIATION" (again, the capitals are mine). I'm not going to argue those criterion, because I wasn't responsible for the grading rubric or anything like that (I would've done it a lot differently, if you care)... that's not the issue (although it bugs the shit out of me). But anyways, the maximum points they could get for each thing was 25, with 100 being the absolute highest grade they could get. Simple enough, right (although again, horrible rubric) (I'm using parentheses way too much).


To recap... 15 countries, highest 3 scores get recognition, my students are in charge of 4 countries. I won't go into the details of the debate, because I want to keep it short (too late), but at the end, the teacher who is responsible of putting this thing together called me over and we added up the judges scores to find out who the top 3 countries were. They were in alphabetical order, so the first of my students' countries to pop-up was Columbia. We added up the 3 scores and it was very very low. Understandable, because the person representing Columbia on stage was clearly nervous and didn't participate as actively as other delegates. When I saw that score, I started to dread what was coming up and all the negative feelings I usually have about myself and my work started to bubble up.


(Sidebar) Re: Negative Feelings
I have self-esteem issues. I feel that whatever it is that I do, I could do better, or that I'm not good enough to do it in the first place. Since I became a teacher, I feel that way about my classes/lessons/methods/exams, whatever. I'm always second guessing myself and questioning if I did things right. I always question if my students are getting something important from our time together or not. And never mind the academics, or the reciting, or the memorizing, or any of that stuff. I want them to feel comfortable, important, and I want that whatever it is they learn be important, useful, and long-term. The other day somebody who was my student 2 years ago sent me a message saying that she was reading something for one of her college courses and that it reminded her of something I had taught her before, and she remembered the specific class that I taught the thing. That. That's why I teach. That's what I love about my job. Never mind that she remembered me, but that she remembered a specific lesson/session? Amazing. 


I always want to do right for my students. I work here for them. They are the absolute greatest and most important resource that we have now. And what saddens me is that I seem to be in the minority in feeling that way. A lot of teachers here are either woefully under-qualified, they don't give a shit, or they simply do the same old boring shit they've done for years and years, without caring one tiny bit about their students' views, ideas, and feelings. It's fucking awful and I hate everything about that. 


I want my students to understand clearly that that's what I feel and that's what I love most about my job. Of course, I can't go right out and say it directly. I have to make them understand through my interactions with them, my lessons, activities, assignments, and my dealings with them outside of the classroom as well. I hope I do. I hope my attitude and behavior towards my students reflects the love I have for what I do, and the respect and admiration I have for them as well. 


/end Sidebar


Back to the Model UN.

After finishing adding up all the scores, the teacher in charge of the event was ready to announce the winners. This year, in addition to the top 3 scores, they were also going to award 2 "honorable mention" spots to the 4th and 5th best scores. Announcement time:

- Honorable mention - Nigeria (not mine)
- Honorable mention - France (mine)
- 3rd place - Germany (mine)
- 2nd place - Russia (not mine)
- 1st place - the UK (mine)

As a sidenote, when we were adding up the scores, and the teacher responsible for this event saw what was going on, his face was hilarious. He looked like he wanted to take a dump and it just wasn't happening for him. After all, he and his groups have done this for a number of years, I'm sure he expected to sweep. 


I was in shock. Not because my students had done well, no. All of them are incredibly smart and I had complete confidence that they would do a fine job, and win or lose, I was damn proud of them. But to take 3 of the top 5 spots in the competition, leaving the other 2 teachers to fight for scraps, was astonishing and amazing. I can't find the words to describe what I felt. Actually, I can...

Pride. But not just pride, and not pride in myself, no. Pride (x a million) in my students for being so goddamn great and for kicking so much ass.

But here's the kicker and what makes this ten million times more amazing. I'm positive (because I know they're good people and have amazing hearts) that besides not wanting to let themselves down, they didn't want to let me down, and I know that was additional motivation for them to do such a great job. That floors me, because I feel the same way and the fact that they are able to see that and reflect it back to me is just spectacular.

And it feels fucking great.

Superstars, that's what they are. Every last one of them.

Now you know.

NGYUHHAGUGHHHH!!

And a GYAYNANGGHUUUGNN to you, sir. 

You see Arnold there? That's sort of what I feel like. A lot. On the inside though. I could never make that face, no matter how I felt. Although I guess if somebody was shooting laser beams into my skull I would probably make some funny faces too. Was that what they were doing to Arnold in that scene? By the way, for the zero people reading this, you should buy Total Recall on DVD just for Arnold's commentary. It is the funniest thing ever.

I am a teacher at a private university in Mexico. Up until about a year ago, and for about 3 and a half years, I was a part-time employee, which means I was only paid for the classes I taught. I stuck it out and was finally given a full-time contract, and was officially a member of the Language Department. Things were great for a while. I had my own little cubicle in our tiny, windowless office, and the environment and camaraderie was positive overall. However, I have psychological issues, and one of the ways that I would vent was to go on Twitter and just write whatever was going through my head at the moment. Among the things that would regularly go through my head was work shit. If I was annoyed, angry, sad, upset, happy, laughing, whatever... I would get on the Twitter machine and just write. 140 characters of my musings, which while I admit were generally negative and angry (because I was venting), I considered them to be absolutely harmless.

But oh boy was I wrong. Even though I never mentioned anybody by name, or didn't even mention the school by name, somebody took what I was writing very personally and ratted me out to the highest authority here in campus. And let me tell you about what a piece of work this person is. This person is one of those that's always complaining that for some unknown reason, her computer is too slow. Oh, I don't know, I would think that the fact that the computer is about 8 years old has something to do with it. And you know what could be fucking up your computer too? Those slot machine games you're always playing when you're supposed to be working. And by the way, the porn pop-ups that suddenly show up for no apparent reason? Maybe the reliability of playvegasgamesonline.info isn't what it seems, wouldn't you think?

I helped this person countless times. I helped her design a fucking campaign for an event she was organizing. I helped fix her computer and get it running a bit more smoothly at least twice a week. I bought some fucking shitty shoes from her just to help her out because she's a single mom and her kid is handicapped. And even though she teaches English to university students, who was there when she couldn't pronounce the word *threat*? Yeah, you guessed it. I was fucking there. She can't pronounce the word threat. 


Threat.


She ratted me out, and even though I did nothing wrong, and never mentioned anybody's name or the school's name, I came really close to being fired. It doesn't matter that I am among the better student-evaluated teachers in the entire university. It doesn't matter that I have never missed a day of work or that I regularly work more hours than what I'm being paid for (what overtime?). I was almost fired because of Twitter.

Here are things that bug the shit out of me on Facebook:

• People who post about how great God is, and how we should be thankful, and all that silly shit. Look, never mind the question about whether or not God actually exists. And I don't really care what your beliefs are. You could worship your stapler, I don't give a shit. Just keep it to yourself and stop trying to cram it down people's throats. And I love how these idiots always throw in the "post this if you really believe in God" horseshit at the end. Fuck off. 
• One of the things that porn "star" Ron Jeremy is famous for (besides being hideously ugly) is the fact that he can actually blow himself. Or maybe he can't now, he's pretty fat. Regardless, that's pretty impressive. Turns out, he's not that special. In fact, 99% of the idiots on my Facebook feed are pretty adept at self-fellatio. A desperate call for attention is what it is. What you're doing when you post shit like that is bragging about your insignificant shit just so people will "like" whatever it is you fucking posted.
• People who are constantly asking you if you saw their latest video or photo masterpiece on Facebook. "Hey, I posted a video of my 3 year old niece singing a Lady Gaga song, did you watch it?" My typical answer to this is: "No, I'm at work and I can't stream on this crappy computer." Or, "No, I'm on my cellphone and I can't stream because there's no wifi here." Or, "Yes, I did, hahah, she's adorable." The problem with the last answer is that occasionally I will get called out on it. Usually by something similar to this: "What was your favorite part?" Or "Why didn't you press the like button? Didn't you like it?" By the way, about 50% of the time, that's the only reason why I do press the "like" button. It's a way to get these idiots to shut up about their latest and greatest. 
• Idiots who fall for Facebook spammers or viruses or whatever the hell they're called. "OH MY GOD KIM KARDASHIAN ATE A HOT DOG WITH HER FEET HOW DISGUSTING CLICK HERE TO WATCH." It's amazing to me how in this day and age people still fall for the most ridiculous shit out there. What's even worse is that the same idiot will fall for the same shit over and over again. "Gee, I'm sure this time that link is totally legit." Dumbasses.
• Ugh.

Alright, I'm done I think. I'm sure as time goes on I'll be annoyed by even more crap, and become even more bitter, slowly wasting away all by myself in a pool of my despair, low self-esteem, grievances, and annoyances. 

Some life, huh?

I love Google. I hate Google.

I'm a Google guy. Let me make that clear right off the bat. I have an Android phone, I was desperate to get on Google+ as soon as I heard about it. I love how Google has so many things to get yourself organized, and synchronized, and integration, and all that good stuff. Google promises to make things easier and help you organize your life. That's the problem though. They want to help you organize your life.

I was psyched when this semester started because I wanted to become a full-fledged Google user to help me organize my life. I had my brand spanking new Android phone. I had my brand spanking Google+ profile page. I was excited by the prospect of keeping a Calendar on the web, having it sync to my phone, taking a picture on my phone, having it sync to the web, keeping everything neat and tidy and fucking organized, man. 

But I can't do it. It's just too much. Either that, or I'm a moron. Maybe I just expect things to be too perfect. 

I blame Mexico, in a sense. And here's why. Google and their universe of applications and tools haven't been as successful here as they are in other parts of the world. I'm jealous when I read about people using Gmail for everything, about people video chatting using Google Talk, about people creating their Hangouts on Google+ and lamenting how so-and-so couldn't get in because the room was full. People here are still hung up on Hotmail and Facebook. I'm disappointed that my friends, my students, and my colleagues don't see just how awesome Google is. When I ask people for their e-mail addresses, all I get is fucking Hotmail. I'm shocked when somebody uses Gmail, which isn't right, man.

On my phone, which runs Android, one of the most awesomest things is that your phone contacts are synced to Gmail. Forget your phone memory or your SIM card. If you fuck up and lose your phone, your contacts will all be intact in your Gmail account. Isn't that cool? I use Gmail as my primary e-mail account, so I was excited about this. Something else it does, is to use your Gmail contact pictures to your phone contact list TO YOUR FUCKING FACEBOOK CONTACTS. Holy shit. So in theory, whenever I look at my contact list on my phone, I could see a nice picture instead of whatever shit stock cartoony image Samsung put in there. I could see that contact's Facebook page, and see their Gmail address as well. From that screen, I can either call them, e-mail them, or post on their Facebook page. Then on the web, when I go to my Gmail contact list, I would see the same thing. 

I read a lot of the tech websites. Mashable, Engadget, Techcrunch, the Verge, Gizmodo, etc. That list grows every day. It appears that most of the people who write for those websites are power Google users. They're always mentioning Gmail this, and Google Calendar that, and Google Docs the other. Google Reader, Google+, Google Maps, Google Chrome, Picasa... you name a Google product, these guys are into it, and they're hardcore. They're so non-chalant too. It fucking gets on my nerves. Because I want that, goddammit. 

Sigh. 

Don't even get me started on the Google Calendar/Tasks bullshit. I've spent hours trying to get that shit to work the way I want it to. Same with Google Docs. Hours. 

Hmm...

Reading back, I guess Google isn't really my problem at all, don't you think?

Happens Every Time.

Every Thursday, I go and play basketball with some of my friends. I've been going to the same place, every Thursday at 8:30 for about 13 years now. Yeah, occasionally I'll skip a Thursday, and when I was married and back in Nogales I didn't go, but basically it's the same routine. The people I play with have been consistent as well, although from the time I started to now there's only about 4 or 5 of us left. The rest of the guys haven't been going that long. Overall, there's a group of about 20 or 25 of us who play. We don't all go every Thursday, usually it's about 12 or 13 of us who are the most consistent, but all in all that seems about right. Maybe even a few more, actually.

Anywho, every year we have a tournament. We make 5 teams (different each tourney), and all play each other twice. After this, the top 4 teams advance to the semifinals and the winners of that play for the championship. At the end of that game, we celebrate with some beer, and have a nice party.

Last night each team was going to play twice because we had missed a few Thursdays (rain, refs didn't show up, etc.) Coming into last night, the standings were:

1. Reds (my team): 5-1
2. Blues: 5-1
3. Yellows: 4-3
4. Whites: 2-4
5. Blacks: 0-7

As you can see, we are very creative with team names. 

First game last night, we played the White team and lost badly, dropping us to 5-2, and probably out of the first place race. However, in a shock, the Yellow team beat the Blue team, dropping them to 5-2 as well, and finishing up the round robin themselves with a 5-3 record. In an even bigger shock, the hapless Black team beat the White team in the next game, finally winning one, but still finishing at the bottom of the standings and eliminated from the semifinals. After all of that then, the standings were as follows:

1. Reds: 5-2
2. Blues: 5-2
3. Yellows: 5-3
4. Whites: 3-5
5. Blacks: 1-7

Last game of the evening, and of the round robin, was to be for first place. It was the Red team vs. the Blue team. Seeding was also going to be an issue, as we use a classic 1 vs. 4 and 2 vs. 3 semifinals pairing. Yellows and Whites were set, so it only mattered to us and the Blue team. In the round robin round, we had beaten the Yellow team twice, and had gone 1-1 vs. the White team, whereas both the Blue team's losses had come vs. the Yellows. So game on... we win, we play against the Whites, we lose, we play against the Yellows for a spot in the championship game. 

Game starts, and the Blue team is all over us. At one point, the score is about 19-2 in their favor. It was awful. I couldn't run because I had sprained my ankle, another one of my guys was basically useless, and they were on fire. Everything they were throwing up was going in. But sure enough, they start to cool off, things start to go a little our way, and at the end of the 3rd quarter we're only down 6 points. 

So now it's a game! With about 1 minute left, we're down by two points, and one of my guys gets a great steal and drives for an open layup, tying it up. The Blue team brings it up court, and their point guard fucks up, I end up with the ball, pass it to a streaking teammate (same guy who scored the last shot), and he's intentionally fouled as he's running for an open layup, which means he gets 2 free throws, and we get the ball. There's 12 seconds left. 

He misses the first free throw. Still tied. 

He makes the second one. We have our first lead of the game. I remind you, there's 12 seconds left. 

All we have to do right now is inbound the ball, and they'll be forced to foul, we could eat some clock, make a couple of free throws, and we got it in the bag. First place, and playing the Whites in the semifinal round. So what happens? My guy fucks up the inbound pass, it gets stolen, and their guy waltzes in for an uncontested layup, giving them a 1 point lead, with 6 seconds left. We call time out, and "design" a play, which is basically, give it to our best guy and have him create a shot. Of course, they're expecting it, so they blanket him, and we give it to one of the other guys, he throws up a shot, I see it's not going to make it to the rim, I crash the boards, get the rebound, pump fake, go up for the shot, and I'm fouled across the back. Two free throws, 1 second left on the clock. If I make them both, we win. If I make one, we go to overtime. 

If I make them both, we win. 

If I make one, we go to overtime.

If I make 2 free throws, we win the game. 

If I make 1 free throw, we tie and go to overtime.

That's the first conditional... I think. 

I'm confident. Even though I haven't played a great game because of my sprained ankle (which turned out to be worse than I thought, I woke up today and it was pretty bad), I've picked it up in the second half, making some tough shots, grabbing some rebounds, and overall contributing to our comeback. I would say I'm around a 70% free throw shooter, so I'm confident I'll make at least one. People watching are catcalling, giving me shit, laughing it up (they're pretty drunk)... the other team is trying to psych me out, my teammates are encouraging me, all that good stuff. 

First one goes up, rattles around, touches every single part of the rim, tickles my balls with a feather, and the fucking ball doesn't go in. When I say it touches every single part of the rim, I mean it. It's not one of those that spin around and then bounce out. I shot it softly, intending to drop it in, it bounced a bit on the front, took a right hand turn, and very, very slowly spun, hung on the lip of the rim for what seemed to be an eternity, and didn't go in.

Fuck. 

I was crushed. I really was. People were laughing, my guys were clapping me on the back, and I still had one more to go. Remember, if I make this, we go into overtime, and I felt good about our chances. After all, we had come back from a huge hole all the way to this moment. But I knew I was done. I knew I would never make the second free throw. The reason I was sure I wasn't going to make it is because I saw that first free throw as like a snapshot of my life. 

I take my shot, and I miss. I get close, and the ball doesn't fucking go in. Every fucking time. It really shouldn't surprise me anymore, but I get irrationally confident that it has to go in once. And that's all I need. I just need it to go in one. fucking. time. But it never does. Sometimes the failure is spectacular and I go down in flames, sometimes I get oh so fucking close before the rug is pulled out from under me. 

Just like that fucking free throw. 

That's it. 

The Cubs.

For some reason, I've always been a Cubs fan. It doesn't really make much sense. I'm from Mexico, and almost everyone I know grew up a Dodgers fan. And I get it. I mean, Fernando Valenzuela changed everything for us. Lord knows my father tried his my older brother and myself into Dodger fans. We had the uniforms and everything (my brother was Steve Sax, I was Ron Cey). From then on, we were almost obligated to love the Dodgers. I don't know if my brother ever did, he doesn't seem to have a particular allegiance to any baseball team, as a matter of fact. But that's besides the point. 

I think it was the Ron Cey dodger uniform that did it for me. I would watch him play, and he seemed like such an unlikely star. Here is this diminutive man playing the hot corner at 3rd base, and doing a fantastic job of it. When he would go up to bat, he looked completely out of place, like a 1st grader finally getting to play with his older brothers. His bushy mustache added to the comedy of the whole thing, and made him that much more endearing to me. 

When he joined the Cubs, I was there with him. I mean, as much as one could be back in those days. No internet, no Twitter, no 24 hour sports news cycles, we just had our local rag and an occasional episode of SportsCenter to keep us in the loop. I live in Mexico, so it was even harder for me. 

So I was a Cubs fan. That was it. Ryne Sandberg took Cey's place as my all-time favorite, and I stayed with them every step of the way. Promising seasons from Mark Grace, a playoff run or two that ended almost as fast as it started (I will forever hate Will Clark for pummeling my Cubbies in 1989). 

Then 2003 happened. Kerry Wood. Mark Prior. Dusty Baker. Aramis f'n Ramirez. Kenny Lofton. Carlos Zambrano. And our big guy, Sammy "Eeees so reeeeal" Sosa. They did great! They won the Division! They seemed poised to get to the World Series, just needing to get past the Braves and then the Giants or Marlins. It was destiny!

For a while there, it was. They were moments away from beating Florida in Game 6 of the NLCS and going to the World Series, where they would face the mighty Yankees. Even that seemed right. That the curse would end against the winningest team in MLB history was just... fitting. And then.... hell. Foul ball popped up, and poor Steve Bartman just happened to be in the worst fucking place at the worst fucking time. Never mind that at least 20 others reached for the ball, or that we don't even know if Moises Alou makes that catch. Never mind that a myriad of other things still had to happen for the Cubs to blow the game, which they did (they ended up giving up 8 runs that inning). Never mind all that. Steve Bartman was the scapegoat. Steve Bartman was to blame. 

That's awful. This guy is a lifelong Cubs fan. I'm sure he would give up anything to take that moment back if it meant his beloved Cubbies get to the World Series and make history. Instead, the Marlins take the series and wind up winning the whole thing (worst World Series champs ever, by the way, even if they have 2). I didn't see the game live. I was in class, on my laptop, and last I checked, the Cubs were still winning. When I got home, I was shocked to see that final 8-3, and even more shocked when I saw the reports and the hell that this poor guy was catching. 

ESPN recently ran a documentary chronicling the whole thing, and the despicable behavior thousands of people demonstrated that night. I get it, it's the heat of the moment, but nobody deserves that treatment for doing what anybody else in his position would've done. Are you seriously telling me you wouldn't reach for a foul ball? You're watching your beloved team, in the greatest baseball stadium still standing.. OF COURSE you would reach for a foul ball. 

Steve Bartman has gone into hiding. In this day and age, with the Facebook, and Twitter, and all of this shit, that's a feat unto itself. I know he feels bad about what happened that night. I know he thinks about it every day. He could've parlayed his "blunder" into millions of dollars by now, but instead he's kept quiet, probably waiting for that one perfect moment. That one perfect moment when the Cubs win the World Series. 

I'm waiting too. I'm waiting because I'm a Cubs fan. I'm waiting because I'm a sports fan. I'm waiting because it's going to be historic. 

I'm waiting because Steve Bartman would finally get the peace he deserves. 

Go Cubbies.