The drought was devastating in its length, tragic in its pain, and comical in its endurance. The Cubs hadn't won a World Series since 1908, a window of baseball that saw the debuts of both Babe Ruth and Mike Trout. When the Cubs' World Series trauma began, the mayor of Cincinnati declared women unfit to use automobiles. A month after Chicago finally clinched the 2016 title, a woman tallied nearly 66 million votes in the U.S. presidential election. For over 108 years the world hurtled through history, as the Cubs were stuck in neutral, dropping infield pops and arguing with umps.
The 2016 Cubs, which rallied from a 3-1 series deficit and thrillingly defeated the Cleveland Indians on the road in Game 7, broke the curse are became civic heroes forever. But they're now all gone. Last week, the Cubs' front office decided to dismantle the roster. Out went Kris Bryant, Javier Baez, and Anthony Rizzo. Jon Lester, Aroldis Chapman, and Ben Zobrist had already left. Almost every significant piece of their glorious championship run is now wearing a different uniform. For decades, the ghosts of Cubs past seemed to haunt every flummox and collapse. Now, those ghosts just play elsewhere.
It's why the greatest lesson in sports is actually the most painful reality in life. The great times are fleeting. True, unbridled, passionate joy -- the kind that grabs you by the collar and shakes you into fits of delirious laughter -- floats by like butterflies, impossible to catch. There's far more disappointment than thrill, as most seasons rumble by with the monotony of bus wheels turning. There are only a precious few that deliver the shocks of happiness that get seared into your mind and become the pictures on our mantles, desktops, and Facebook avatars. If you were a Cubs fan in 2016, it took more than a century to get there. Who knows how long it'll take to get back.
Sure, there are outlier dynasties like the New England Patriots of the 2000s and Nick Saban's Alabama that feel like they'll never end. But that's not the domain for the vast majority of us sports fans, and that certainly isn't symbolism for life. That perfect day at the beach, not a cloud in the sky, a cocktail in your hand, and the most glorious sunset you've ever seen? You can't just assume it happens again tomorrow or next summer or the summer after that. Which, of course, is the most critical lesson of them all. Enjoy it. Enjoy the hell out of the good times. Leave no moment on the backburner, make no excuses why you can't or shouldn't. Be present, be engaged, and be grateful. Because one day, you'll wish you had.
The handful of Cubs fans that were hanging over the railing in Cleveland during Game 7, or the thousands that collected outside Wrigley Field waving "W" flags that night, seized that moment. If you've ever been to a championship event involving your favorite team, you know the surge of electricity that's impossible to replicate. You know the feeling of fist-bumping complete strangers, high-fiving a random passerby, hugging the guy in the body paint like he was your buddy since kindergarten. And you know how rare that moment is.
The Cubs got back a handful of young prospects who may develop into the next winning core. Perhaps Nick Madrigal grows into the next Baez, and Pete Crow-Armstrong turns into a Bryant-type player. The 2016 Cubs roster was the second-youngest ever to win the World Series. The youngest? The 1969 Mets, reaffirming there's no guarantee that more titles are to follow. It took nearly two decades for the Mets to win it again after that miraculous summer of '69, and they haven't hoisted a championship flag for the last 35 years. As the adage goes, the days are long but the years fly by. When it's there, hold onto it and enjoy it as much as possible. You have no idea when it'll return.