Well, it happened. Not in the five-game spanking all the analysts seemed to predict, but it happened. The Cubs won the series. The curse lifted. A national narrative fulfilled. And it seems like everyone in America, from Bill Murray to Eddie Vedder to Hillary Rodham Clinton, is happy about it. Everybody, of course, except the good people of the city on the banks of the Cuyahoga.
No one wanted this for Cleveland except Cleveland. Poorly photoshopped jokes (From TBS, mind you... TBS, a network that, outside the playoffs, would have no ratings if not for Seinfeld and Family Guy reruns; a channel for whom the pinnacle of original programming was My Boys) and fellatic national coverage of the Cubs made it absolutely clear that the goodwill we’d engendered from The Comeback would not extend itself to the World Series.
It was Ohio against the world, but this time, no one cared. We were no one’s lovable underdogs but our own. And that’s poor consolation when half the shots of the Jake (yeah, it's still the Jake) are filled with Cubs fans (to Tribe ticket holders who sold Game 7 tickets to Chicagoans: I hear Miami is great this time of year, and they’re always willing to take on bandwagon fans).