Arnie Kanter

At age four, I was a serious Cubs fan.  I cried whenever they lost.  I had an unhappy childhood.

That was about to change in 1984, though.  On Yom Kippur, the highest of Jewish holidays, the Cubs led their playoff series with the Padres two games to none.  One more victory and they’d be in the World Series.  Thirty-eight years of pain would dissipate in an instant.

Our congregation has an Open Mic tradition on the afternoon of Yom Kippur, when congregants can speak for two minutes on any topic of interest to them.  Typically, people talk of their favorite causes or reflect on deep personal joys or sorrows.

I stepped to the Mic in 1984 and spoke of how I’d always wondered about the existence of God.  That night, though, I predicted, would provide proof positive of God’s existence, as the Cubs won their playoff series with the Padres and moved into the World Series.

Of course, the Cubs lost three games in a row.  Most of my fellow congregants blamed their defeat on me.  I blamed God.

Each Yom Kippur, for more than thirty years thereafter, I mused on the relationship between God and the Cubs.  Though I no longer cried when the Cubs lost (I stopped that when I turned 47), I was still a serious Cubs fan.  My Yom Kippur musings are collected in my book, IS GOD A CUBS FAN?  which contains blurbs from Barack Obama, Hilary Clinton, Doris Kearns Goodwin, Bud Selig (the commissioner of baseball) and Bob Chicoine (my favorite beer vendor at Wrigley).

In 2016 my faith finally was rewarded when I attended Game 7 of the Cubs World Series victory in Cleveland.  It doesn’t get any better.

Today, though, baseball, played in empty stadiums, benefits only millionaire players and billionaire owners who support a heinous president.  The Cubs are unable to distract me from the pandemic and the racial turmoil that rage outside their ivy-covered walls.  After almost 75 years, I am no longer a serious Cubs fan.  Great God Almighty, free at last!