Ten years ago today, I wrote the words I had been preparing my whole life for:
The Chicago Cubs have won the World Series.
The Cubs are champions.
Let that soak in. For a long while.
The 108-year drought is over.
The moment millions upon millions of people dreamed about for their entire lives is here. It’s actually here.
This is not a dream. You are not asleep.
That was exactly what I penned for what was then known as CSN Chicago.
I will say one thing, however — it certainly felt like a dream at the time. Even as I wrote those words, it felt surreal.
And 10 years later, it still doesn’t quite feel real.
I was born into Cubs fandom. My parents, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends were all diehard Cubs fans.
Growing up in the Chicagoland area, I was always drawn to baseball — and always drawn to the Cubs and their historic championship drought.
I was also drawn to writing. As a kid, I created my own Cubs team on loose-leaf paper and went through a whole season, detailing each lineup and game of my pretend team.
Through high school, it started to become clear that I had a way to merge my two passions — writing and baseball (namely, the Cubs).
And thus my singular professional goal was born — to be in the Cubs clubhouse when they won it all, documenting the historic moment. In some ways, it was a potentially tragic goal. I didn’t have any control over how the Cubs performed on the field or how the front office put together the roster.
But I turned it into a career, working for what was then called CSN Chicago (which later became NBC Sports Chicago). I grew into a role as the backup on the Cubs beat, working with Patrick Mooney to provide coverage as Theo Epstein and Jed Hoyer built the team that eventually won it all.
In the years leading up to 2016, I had opportunities to move in my career — to change cities and take other jobs. But that was going to take me away from my goal, so I passed on all of those gigs. I stayed in Chicago and eventually had the chance to travel to cover the Cubs in places like Milwaukee, St. Louis, Los Angeles …
… and Cleveland.
It’s crazy to think it’s been a full decade since the Cubs won it all.
In some ways, it still feels like it was last week. In other ways, it feels like a lifetime ago.
The exact moments and specific memories may be a bit hazier now, but those feelings from that fateful fall will stick with me forever — the same way I’m sure they’ll stick with anybody who was associated with the 2016 Cubs, from players to fans to those of us in the media lucky enough to cover the games.
The tension at Wrigley Field on Oct. 28, 29 and 30 for the World Series games was palpable. I felt like I could reach out and grab this intangible … thing.
The thrill of watching Kris Bryant hit a home run in Game 5, the chill-inducing moment as Addison Russell smacked a grand slam in Game 6. And then every moment — good and bad for the Cubs — in Game 7.
Those all stand out, sure. But they’re also easy to find on YouTube or social media.
There are other memories stick out from that championship run. Memories that help remind me of the surreal.
Like how Phil Collins’ lite-rock jam “In the Air Tonight” played at the stadium before each of the Cubs’ World Series wins (and, to my knowledge, did not play before each of the three losses). To this day, whenever I hear that song, it instantly takes me back to Wrigley Field or Progressive Field.
I remember the feeling at Wrigley Field after Game 4, when the Cubs fell to 3-1 in the series and were on the brink of elimination. For some reason, I was struck with a strange sense of optimism that the Cubs just might have enough fight left in them to pull off the nearly unthinkable.
Or getting drenched as Epstein sprayed an entire bottle of champagne in Bill Murray’s face right next to me.
I snagged several corks from the champagne bottles in that clubhouse celebration. One I put in a shadow box and gave to my mom — the biggest Cubs fan I knew and the person who taught me how to score a game and stoked my love of baseball.
I kept another cork for myself and my wife put it along with all of my postseason credentials and my Game 7 scorecard in a display case that hangs in my office. A case I see every day and serves as a reminder that all the difficult decisions I made in my career and all the long hours led me to that moment.
The moment when I accomplished my career goal thanks to the heroics of Dexter Fowler, Ben Zobrist, Miguel Montero and so many others.
I’ve said this many times over the past decade: It’s sort of strange to accomplish my career goal before I turned 30 years old. But it doesn’t feel like it’s been all downhill since.
In fact, last fall stirred up a lot of the same feelings as I covered the Cubs’ return to the postseason. The vibes at Wrigley Field were incredible and chill-inducing.
It served as a reminder at how special it is when the Cubs are winning. The fanbase is special. The ballpark is special. There may be no other place truly like it in sports.
The Cubs haven’t been able to get back to the promised land in the decade since. And who knows if they’ll get there over the next decade.
They’ll win again and won’t go another 108 years between championships (probably?).
When they do win it all again and hoist the World Series trophy, it will certainly be special. But nothing could ever top that magical fall in 2016 when the lives of so many were forever altered.
