Committee, committee, committee,
I really should grab and then hit thee.
Oh, you snub me again:
Will the pain never end?
Five more and I’d truly be happy!
I sit and wait—always waiting.
Oh, what did I do to deserve such a fate!?
12 … 11 … 10 …
The clock ticks.
9 … 8 … 7 …
I can feel it: The end is near! This tortuous ordeal will soon be nothing more than a specter of the past, a memory that will disappear into a deep abyss, gone forever.
6 … 5 … 4 …
Will it finally be my turn to leave this white, black and blue prison, this purgatory, a stale, stagnant place that threatens to drain the hope from my very soul?
3 … 2 … 1 …
I have waited long enough; I will be a slave to time no more. It is my time now to choose as I please, to ascend to greater things. Now I go!
0 … Click To Try Again … 30 …
I sob silently.
The waiting will go on. My grain of sand waits, packed tightly among others, for a trip to the Promised Land, waiting for what may never come.
29 … 28 … 27 …
Why does time mock me so? Does it lord itself over me for sport or out of sheer malice? In a way, the life of a Cub fan is encapsulated in this day: Waiting—for a win, for next year, for happiness.
26 … 25 … 24 …
My time will come, I suppose, and the reward will be all the sweeter, the land of milk and honey richer than any could ever envision.
23 … 22 … 21 …
How can a little box, a box I cannot even hold in my hand, be so cruel? Its feigned sincerity and petty excuses …
20 … 19 … 18 …
The prime games will quickly sell out, while I wait—always waiting—for the screen to change, to bestow its blessings on a kind and gentle man.
17 … 16 … 15 …
Until that time comes, I sit and stare, stuck between heaven and hell, in the Virtual Waiting Room.
14 … 13 … 12 …
I’ve waited for a championship my whole life.
11 … 10 … 9 …
Surely I can wait a few hours for tickets.
8 … 7 … 6 …
Maybe this time I’ll get through.
5 … 4 … 3 …
Just maybe.
2 … 1 … 0 …
And then:
Bliss.
A schedule appears before my eyes, 81 joyous possibilities that dazzle the mind and remind why I suffer through this every year. I can hardly contain myself—baseball is almost here!—and I am helpless no more. No computer or cruel browser window can hold me down, or shatter me like glass. I am in.
My time has come. Now, I wonder, will the Cubs’ come, too?
The choice is made, payment is sent, and then…
Welcome to the Chicago Cubs Virtual Waiting Room!
30 … 29 … 28 …
Again, I sit and wait—always waiting…