"Do you understand...the dream is over..."

Well, there it is, I guess. After all the hoopla, all the predictions disproved, all talk of goats and Waveland Avenue and "that fan." After the listing off of various amounts of time (fourteen years, fifty-eight years, ninety-five years). After the uber-hype about the hot hands of the pitching aces. After the three-one lead, and the almost assured victory. There it is. Another World Series to ignore.

As the last out was caught, I stood from the green recliner in my parents' living room. My mother said, "I'm sorry, honey." And I replied, in true third-generation-fan style, "Well, you know, at the end of the day, they're still the Cubs."