October 3, 2022 • 27 mins
The hyper-focus of camera lenses made the 24 hours leading up to Game 7 seem like one big explosion of joy in Chicago, but the truth was that nobody could be sure how'd they'd feel when it all ended, whether they'd be full of joy, or grief, or both.
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Speaker 1 (00:02):
You're listening to the cost of these dreams. From Right Thompson,
a podcast about sports stories from I Heeart Media, Graphic
Audio and Go Rodeo. This episode it's called One Last Weight.
So making what do you know about the Chicago Cubs curse? Well,
(00:27):
before reading Right Thompson's work, very little. I have to
admit to you, you know what's odd about the Cubs
is that, even if you're not a superstitious person, weird
things would happen to make sure that the Cubs didn't
win World Series. Like what are we talking about here
when we talk about a curse? Like how how long
(00:48):
was it? So in the Chicago Cubs play the Detroit
Tigers in the World Series and they win, and then
they never win a World Series for the next hundred years.
And for Cubs fans that is a generational level of loserdom.
But if you talk to any Cubs fans, there is
a weird perennial optimism about it despite years over a
(01:13):
hundred years of failure. So to put yourselves in the
headspace for this piece by right, it's the Cubs are
playing in the World Series. They improbably won the LCS
and the Pennant and they are now playing in their
(01:33):
first World Series in decades and certainly the best chance
they've ever had at winning a World Series. And this
hundred and over a hundred years. Uh, they're playing the
Cleveland Indians, who are also a team that has been
deprived of World Series championships for over fifty years. And
there's a palpable sense of destiny in the city of Chicago.
(01:56):
And that's when ESPN sent right to be in the
city of Chica go for a Game seven of the
World Series. And for any sports journalist, uh, this is
the biggest assignment that you're ever going to get. So
this is one last weight. It's the single greatest assignment
a sports writer can ever have, to be the person
(02:18):
the biggest sports media company in the country sins to
go chronicle this crazy thing that's happening. I mean, earning
the fate to get that assignment. I'm as proud of
as anything. I would like this to exist as a
document of what it was like to be in Chicago,
Illinois on the night that this happened. There's no there's
(02:46):
nothing else to call them but pilgrims. I just round
a corner and there are people standing outside of baseball
Stadium in the middle of the day, in the rain,
in the middle of a busy modern American city, and
none of them really know what they're doing in there.
Everyone needed to go somewhere, No one knew where to go,
and they said to wait. Cubs fans awoke Wednesday morning
(03:10):
to one last weight, with little to do before Game seven.
But think about themselves and their families, about the people
who come and gone during these one and eight years
of failure. Yeah, hundreds found themselves drawn to Wrigley Field,
(03:37):
where workers were already breaking down the concessions and cleaning
out the freezers. Some people said they didn't even mean
to come. They started off on a trip to the
store and ended up standing in front of the stadium's
long brick wall facing Waveland Avenue. Many wrote chop notes
to the dead. Some dedicated messages, scribbling on the bricks
(03:58):
saying this ones for you, Dad. Others just wrote names.
Dan Bird, Ben Bird, Eugene hinder Shot. John Montejunas stood
at the wall with a bright smile, with melancholy eyes.
He wrote the name of his late wife. They met
four blocks from here on Racine. She's been gone six
(04:21):
years cancer he told me he looked around at the names.
Each one is special to some stranger, as his wife's
name is to him. All these chalk ghosts longed to
see a day like this one. Each name represented an
unfulfilled dream. The big, bright murals made the wall seem
(04:42):
fun and festive from Afar, but a closer look revealed
life stripped of romanticism. A lot of people waited their
whole lives. John told me he took a picture of
the wall and then he left, walking through the light rain.
And you know, those Cubs fans are really pumped up
after last night's big win, hoping to fly another de
(05:06):
family as a brick on the other side on a
on Addison. So usually I kind of just kissed it
before I go in. I kiss it and hit the bricks.
I've been coming since sixty three. I came with my dad,
and then he couldn't come anymore. I went over to
the bleachers, and I didn't know exactly what to do
while waiting for the final game of the World Series.
(05:28):
So I woke up early on that Wednesday and went
to church. The priest at the Cavernous or Nate Holy
named Cathedral didn't mention the Cubs during his homily, but
he didn't need to. His talk about suffering and faith
resonated with those who came to celebrate All Souls Day.
(05:50):
Yes you heard that right. Game seven of the two
thousand and sixteen World Series between the Cleveland Indians and
the Chicago Cubs was played on the same day as
the annual Catholic holiday to remember and celebrate the dead
and pray for their safe passage from purgatory into Heaven.
You can't make this shut up. The hyper focus of
(06:12):
camera lenses will make the last twenty four hours in
Chicago seemed like one big explosion of joy. But that's
not really true. The whole exercise has produced its own extremes.
On one hand, people have been going wild with Eddie
veteran Bill Murray closing down one of those five am
dive bars on Division Street. Okay, there's also this palpable sadness.
(06:45):
Nobody could really be sure how they'd feel when it
all ended, whether they'd be full of joy or grief
or both. It was all around today's Game seven of
the World Series of two dozen sixteen, and I feel
like I just need to take a moment to say Yeah,
(07:06):
Cubs playoffs, just having the time of our lives. I'm
back from school, so I came down here for one reason.
That's to watch the loud route Blue Go Cubbies. I'm
really liking it's gonna be nail biding time from Paduca, Kentucky.
This here on the Cops, so there's much confidence today
gate to the home plate. I want to see a team,
(07:27):
a team next grade. I want to see the Cubs, ever,
said my wife's grandfather, a decorated World War Two veteran
who survived being named Bob Weinberg and a German prisoner
of war camp, died in May of that year. He
grew up in Chicago. He loved the Cubs, and as
(07:48):
the season went on, my wife and I talked about
how cruel it seemed for a man to live for
ninety four years, to survive his bomber being shot down
and being held captive, only to die five months before
the World Series. He longed to see. With him in mind,
I reached out to a half dozen area hospitals into
the team itself, looking for fans who were hanging on,
(08:11):
hoping to find someone who might beat Bob's odds. The
Cubs connected me with a woman named Jennie Iverson. She
listened to the games on the radio religiously even at
and loved to tell people she shared a birthday with
Andre Dawson, the Cubs Hall of Famer. She never really
(08:32):
grew up, wearing a tar and feather boa to her
ninety birthday and trying to do one of those college
girl no hand shots on her ninety two birthday. Her
kids loved to pull out photos of her with an
entire shot glass in her mouth. She seemed hilarious to me,
but her family didn't think she was up for a
stranger to visit. I disengaged and didn't think about her
(08:54):
much after that until I was standing at the Wrigley
Field chalk wall. I saw all a woman riding on
the metal gates to the bleachers themselves across the street
from Murphy's. Her name was Mary, Beth, told Hammy, and
she had just finished her message and stood back to
admire it. Mom, thank you for teaching us to believe
(09:14):
in ourselves. Love in the Cubs. Enjoy your view from
the ultimate sky box. I took a picture of her
close enough to overhear her conversation with another stranger to
her left. Mary Beth talked about her mom and how
ESPN had contacted the family. The dots connected in my head.
(09:35):
The hair stood up on my arm. I told her
that was me. She told me her mother was Jenny Iverson,
and then starting to shake and cry, she told me
the news her mom had died. Between Games two and three,
(10:02):
twenty miles northwest, cars parked in groups along the winding
paths of the All Saints Cemetery. An hour remained until
the five pm closing time. It's a Catholic burial ground
out in the middle class suburbs and their dozens, maybe
hundreds of Cubs flags and hats and license plates and signs.
(10:23):
It's one of the many places around Chicago this past
week where the conflicting ideas of joy and pain leave
the realm of the psychological and become attached to action.
People come here for many reasons to say a little prayer,
or talk to someone or to themselves her to believe
that their loved one knows what is happening tonight. Yesterday,
(10:47):
a middle aged woman named Maureen stood for the longest
time at a grave not far away. Maureen touched her
hand to the Cub's logo on her chest and smiled.
Looking back down at the ground, Maureen told me it
was her son. She pointed across the rolling hill to
the most famous grave in the cemetery, which is where
(11:08):
she was headed next to pay respects to Harry Carey
before going to watch the game. His stone has green
apples on top, an inside joke referencing a quote about
the Cubs one day making it to a World Series,
just as surely as God made green apples. Too bad,
we couldn't have had a victory, meant a pennant, But
(11:31):
that will come sure as God made green apples. Someday,
the Chicago Cubs are gonna be in the World Series.
That made sooner that we think. It seems to me
and we walked over and I see what's going on.
They're setting up a radio and I don't know who
the guy is. And then the custodian, I'm like, hi,
(11:52):
I'm right from ESPN. He's like, oh, you're writing a story,
are you? And I'm like, yeah, you got this crewd
on his face like he knew, and he was like,
I'd like you to meet Harry Carrey's son in law,
and just like fuck, really and he's like, yeah, Harry
was the best. I'm like, what was he like? And
he's like, man, we got in trouble. The night the
Bulls won their first title with Michael Jordan's we went
(12:14):
down to Gibson Steakhouse and watched the game, and afterwards,
Harry's like, we gotta go party, and they went down
to Division Street. But the problem was is there were
thousands of people in the street and they were like,
it's fucking Harry Carry. So they get mobbed and their
cops everywhere, and the cops realized that, you know, they're
gonna tear Harry Limb from Limb, So the cops have
to get Harry Carry on this police horse and ride
(12:35):
him out of there. And I can just imagine some
really drunk person the next morning, like, dude, I swear
Harry Carrey was on the back of the police horse.
They placed a radio in a spot they cleared of apples.
They turned it on, tuned it to the local broadcast,
and covered it with a plastic carton. They snaked the
(12:57):
antenna through a hole cut in it, then covered it
with duct tape to keep out the rain. He's done
this before every World Series game, turned on the radio
and let it play. Once the place closed, with the
pregame show already started, he listened to the announcers debate
Corey Kluber and the Cubs ability to hit him. Newell
(13:18):
kneeled down and set a prayer. Then he drove back
towards the city to watch the game. The custodians locked
the fence by the road and near the back of
the cemetery, a radio at the foot of Harry Carey's
grave played the national anthem. In the lineups and the
first pitch, nobody but the dead were around to hear
(13:43):
the hats Chicago has come to Cleveland. This is like
Chicago East out here. Of course, I've been here the
last few days since Sunday, just a couple of hours.
But I will say this, there's also a tension here
and at times it gets a little quiet when people
get overwhelmed with the moments. The nine degrees Another gorgeous
night in Cleveland, Ohio, and will give you a look
(14:05):
out the Chicago lineup. Mary Beth TALHAMI got to her
local bar just as the game began. They love her
at a place called Wildwood Tavern in the suburb of
Niles and the owners saved a bar stool for her.
Her friends hugged her and told her that her mother
was up there helping the Cubs tonight. It's been six
(14:27):
days since Jenny Iverson died, taking her last breath wrapped
in a Cub's blanket. She loved. The baseball has kept
Marybeth distracted. She hasn't even bought a dress for the funeral.
People from the neighborhood filled the bar, which serves steaks
and cold beers, and when the Cubs got their first
out of the game, Mary Beth grinned to go. She said,
(14:53):
two one, that's in the air to center, get m
h start. The Cubs look dominant, a repeat of the
Game six performance, and for the first time, she allowed
(15:13):
herself to feel confident and to consider a life after
this season. When the Cubs took a four one lead,
her lip began to quiver. A friend hugged her and
she started to cry. Sitting in this bar, wearing her
mom's Cubs jacket, waving a plastic Cubs flag that had
been in her mom's room, drying her eyes with a
(15:34):
Cub's rally towel. Someone brought her mom the week before
she died. Mostly what she wanted was to see some
sign that her mother's presence wasn't gone forever. Two hours
after Jenny died last week, mary Beth sent out a
text message to the select people who needed to know.
The bad news is my mom passed away. The good
(15:57):
news is there's another angel in the outfield. When she
met me outside of the ballpark, that was a sign
to she said. And after we left the chalk wall
at Wrigley, she sat in her car and sobbed, and
then ran into Murphy's bleachers to do a shot of
Jamison for her mom. Today, mary Beth saw a rainbow
(16:18):
and said out loud to her mom, can't you leave
me alone already? So the Cub's performance had become tightly
wound together with all sorts of deeper and more personal questions,
which raised the stakes for her run at first Ramirez,
two out, bottom of the eighth. The score stood at
six to three in the eighth inning, four outs, she said,
(16:41):
holding her mom's towel to her face, which was too
new to be laced with the light orange scent of
Jenny's favorite perfume, She looked down to make eye contact
with the bartender so he could pour victory shots. She
shouted to him to get ready now. He asked no.
She said, no, bad mocho win. I will go the
(17:07):
right center that balls down takes. He did us six six.
(17:31):
The Indians scored and then hit a two run homer,
tying the game. She pulled the towel up over her
eyes and said, over and over, oh my fucking god,
Oh my fucking god, Oh my fucking god, Oh my
fucking god, Oh my fucking god. Her niece texted her,
I'm shaking. Keep the faith, baby. Mary Beth responded, I
(17:52):
wish I was with you, Ellie wrote, you are, sweetie.
I sit down at him as all the you know,
they start off and they're they're kicking ass. I mean
it's four one. Everybody's you know, ordering steaks. I mean
I had a steaks in at the bar, and it
feels like this is a core nation, you know. And
(18:13):
then I mean they get within four outs of winning,
and then the Indians come back and it starts raining
and it's going to extra innings, and I mean it's
as tense as I've ever felt a place, because everybody's
been so sure that it was done and people would
allowed themselves to believe. Like there was incredible angst and
(18:36):
anxiety when it started, but a lot of that, frankly,
had sort of gone away. I mean, I don't know
if the people in the room would cop to it now,
but I think everybody thought we got this, and then
it started to fall apart in that very sort of
stereotypically Cubs way that things fall apart. And then the
room was just like, I can't believe we were four
(18:57):
outs away from winning the World Series and we're gonna
ship the best body out nobody on Yo Schobert's a
bat seventeen minute delay. We understand Schobert rips are based
in the right deal. A bullet between Napoli and Kitness
tie game, tenth inning, one day. On the pitch, groundball,
the third base, it down the Leffia line. They go
(19:18):
ahead and run the score. The ball is backheaded by
Guyer where sogers the third double first albreast. Cubs lead
seven six. You talked about a break taking the lead
here in the tenth inning, the pitch m Ontero grumble
let field Basia one unders him sold us around third,
holding Cubs lead eight six. Michael Moon Tero comes through
(19:44):
and now the Clubs lead by two. Cubs of their
second run here at the top of the tenth a
nail bier at Progressive Field in Ohio. This should be
a good match. Then it opened. The Indians were now
(20:04):
up to bat. Carl Edwards Jr. Was on the mound.
A rookie. He struck out the first baseman. The third
baseman was next groundball hit the second base. Two down,
one out to go. Dwyer walks. The tying run was
now at the plate. Rodgi Davis clocks the line drive
(20:27):
the center. Dwyer scores. The winning run is now at
the plate, one out to go. The picture. Edwards has
pulled and Montgomery comes in and oh, one pitch contact,
(20:49):
the jobs says, makes the play. It's over and the
Cubs HiT's finally one all ain't seven and ten stop
h h. The bar around Marybeth got loud. People jumped up,
(21:32):
and the young people to her right hugged and danced
in high fived. Others pounded on the bar, and the
stereo blared, Go Cubs go. Marybeth remained quiet, holding her
victory shot. She raised her glass and tipped it towards
the ceiling, toasting her mom. But then the sobs hit
so hard, her shoulders shaking so violently that she couldn't
(21:54):
drink it until face with it. She'd never really known
how she'd act to the Cubs winning a World Series.
Turns out she thought about her mom. The glass stayed
in her hand for thirty seconds or more until she
finally steadied herself and knocked it back. Then she put
her head in her hands and began to cry. That night,
(22:19):
she fell asleep wrapped in her mom's Cubs blanket the
One Jenny War. The night she died, the town went nuts.
Cars sped down the freeway, waving flags out of windows,
(22:43):
weaving through traffic. Huge crowds gathered on Michigan Avenue, and
every horn seemed to hank at once. Cops blocked the
exits near the stadium. Wrigley Field turned into a Looney Bend,
with one person collapsing to their knees to weep while
others set off firework x near downtown. The Chicago Sun
(23:03):
Times in the Chicago Tribune rolled off the presses packed
into bundles and forklift into waiting trucks. The truck drivers
hung out in their ready room for assignments. Many wore
Cubs gear, and they all talked about the game. Truck
three seventy six rumbled out of the loading bay. Al
Moki behind the wheel, big guy, a Union guy. He
(23:26):
looked both friendly and like he could handle himself and
that typical Chicago way. He'd driven a newspaper truck for
more than thirty years. His father did it for more
than thirty two. It was about two forty five am.
He and his two person team stocked convenient stores and
honor boxes. A man in a white van cut them
off to buy two copies of each paper right from
(23:49):
the truck. Other people pointed when they drove by, understanding
that the passing newspaper delivery meant that the next day
had in fact arrived, and that the sun would be
coming up in a few hours, and that the headlines
proved that none of it had been a dream. The
no Curse world had begun series the first time since
(24:14):
nineteen eight hundred and eight years. The curse is broken.
I'm not even sure put it into words like, Heystogo,
what do you say? It comes go no way to?
I don't know anything about baseball, but I love the
Cups South. Unbelievable. I never thought it had happened. Nineteen
(24:35):
eight is nineteen seventy two vinces Jack right here, Hold Grandpa,
he's pushing ninety. We got married in Chicago. First off
after we got married was Wrigley Field Pictures. There I
got a front Kevin that passed away three years ago.
Big cups hand, he always told us when sixteen was
a year, and sure enough, twenty sixteen. He left the
(25:05):
truck idling outside of seven eleven while he and his
team lugged in bundles. A couple at the counter was
paying for gatorade and bagel bites. When the woman saw
the papers, wait, Grace Kingston said, I want all of those.
She settled on five copies of the Tribune, the A
one headline read at last, and carried her proof home
(25:27):
with the electrolytes and carbs, the most essential food groups
of a post curse hangover. An hour later, a little
after four am, the drivers dropped me off at my hotel,
twenty hours after the previous morning's mass. After saying goodbye,
I sat down to read the paper, first the celebratory
front page story about the Cubs, then working my way
(25:49):
through the rest at the back of the business section.
I found thirty nine death notices people who almost made it.
One was for mary Beth's mom, Virginia iverson page six,
column two at the bottom and read memorial. Contributions may
be made to Chicago Cubs Charities. The address listed is
(26:13):
for Wrigley Field. The Cost of These Dreams is from iHeartMedia,
Graphic Audio, and Right Thompson. This series is produced by
Goat Rodeo. In N Right and Megan Nadolski are the
lead producers. This episode is part of the eight part
(26:37):
series The Cost of These Dreams. Find other episodes wherever
you get your podcasts. If you want to dive in
deeper to write Thompson's The Cost of These Dreams, access
the full audio book wherever you get your audio books.
Discover other works by Right Thompson, including his latest book,
Pappy Land wherever books are sold from the Goat Rodeo team.
(26:58):
Production assistants from A Kasidel, Isabel Kirby McGowan, Hamsashi Too,
Maxwell Johnston, and Kara Shillen. Music by Ian N. Right,
Our Deep Thanks to Right Thompson, Caitlin Riley, and John Weiss.
Thanks for listening.
You're listening to the cost of these dreams. From Right Thompson,
a podcast about sports stories from I Heeart Media, Graphic
Audio and Go Rodeo. This episode it's called One Last Weight.
So making what do you know about the Chicago Cubs curse? Well,
(00:27):
before reading Right Thompson's work, very little. I have to
admit to you, you know what's odd about the Cubs
is that, even if you're not a superstitious person, weird
things would happen to make sure that the Cubs didn't
win World Series. Like what are we talking about here
when we talk about a curse? Like how how long
(00:48):
was it? So in the Chicago Cubs play the Detroit
Tigers in the World Series and they win, and then
they never win a World Series for the next hundred years.
And for Cubs fans that is a generational level of loserdom.
But if you talk to any Cubs fans, there is
a weird perennial optimism about it despite years over a
(01:13):
hundred years of failure. So to put yourselves in the
headspace for this piece by right, it's the Cubs are
playing in the World Series. They improbably won the LCS
and the Pennant and they are now playing in their
(01:33):
first World Series in decades and certainly the best chance
they've ever had at winning a World Series. And this
hundred and over a hundred years. Uh, they're playing the
Cleveland Indians, who are also a team that has been
deprived of World Series championships for over fifty years. And
there's a palpable sense of destiny in the city of Chicago.
(01:56):
And that's when ESPN sent right to be in the
city of Chica go for a Game seven of the
World Series. And for any sports journalist, uh, this is
the biggest assignment that you're ever going to get. So
this is one last weight. It's the single greatest assignment
a sports writer can ever have, to be the person
(02:18):
the biggest sports media company in the country sins to
go chronicle this crazy thing that's happening. I mean, earning
the fate to get that assignment. I'm as proud of
as anything. I would like this to exist as a
document of what it was like to be in Chicago,
Illinois on the night that this happened. There's no there's
(02:46):
nothing else to call them but pilgrims. I just round
a corner and there are people standing outside of baseball
Stadium in the middle of the day, in the rain,
in the middle of a busy modern American city, and
none of them really know what they're doing in there.
Everyone needed to go somewhere, No one knew where to go,
and they said to wait. Cubs fans awoke Wednesday morning
(03:10):
to one last weight, with little to do before Game seven.
But think about themselves and their families, about the people
who come and gone during these one and eight years
of failure. Yeah, hundreds found themselves drawn to Wrigley Field,
(03:37):
where workers were already breaking down the concessions and cleaning
out the freezers. Some people said they didn't even mean
to come. They started off on a trip to the
store and ended up standing in front of the stadium's
long brick wall facing Waveland Avenue. Many wrote chop notes
to the dead. Some dedicated messages, scribbling on the bricks
(03:58):
saying this ones for you, Dad. Others just wrote names.
Dan Bird, Ben Bird, Eugene hinder Shot. John Montejunas stood
at the wall with a bright smile, with melancholy eyes.
He wrote the name of his late wife. They met
four blocks from here on Racine. She's been gone six
(04:21):
years cancer he told me he looked around at the names.
Each one is special to some stranger, as his wife's
name is to him. All these chalk ghosts longed to
see a day like this one. Each name represented an
unfulfilled dream. The big, bright murals made the wall seem
(04:42):
fun and festive from Afar, but a closer look revealed
life stripped of romanticism. A lot of people waited their
whole lives. John told me he took a picture of
the wall and then he left, walking through the light rain.
And you know, those Cubs fans are really pumped up
after last night's big win, hoping to fly another de
(05:06):
family as a brick on the other side on a
on Addison. So usually I kind of just kissed it
before I go in. I kiss it and hit the bricks.
I've been coming since sixty three. I came with my dad,
and then he couldn't come anymore. I went over to
the bleachers, and I didn't know exactly what to do
while waiting for the final game of the World Series.
(05:28):
So I woke up early on that Wednesday and went
to church. The priest at the Cavernous or Nate Holy
named Cathedral didn't mention the Cubs during his homily, but
he didn't need to. His talk about suffering and faith
resonated with those who came to celebrate All Souls Day.
(05:50):
Yes you heard that right. Game seven of the two
thousand and sixteen World Series between the Cleveland Indians and
the Chicago Cubs was played on the same day as
the annual Catholic holiday to remember and celebrate the dead
and pray for their safe passage from purgatory into Heaven.
You can't make this shut up. The hyper focus of
(06:12):
camera lenses will make the last twenty four hours in
Chicago seemed like one big explosion of joy. But that's
not really true. The whole exercise has produced its own extremes.
On one hand, people have been going wild with Eddie
veteran Bill Murray closing down one of those five am
dive bars on Division Street. Okay, there's also this palpable sadness.
(06:45):
Nobody could really be sure how they'd feel when it
all ended, whether they'd be full of joy or grief
or both. It was all around today's Game seven of
the World Series of two dozen sixteen, and I feel
like I just need to take a moment to say Yeah,
(07:06):
Cubs playoffs, just having the time of our lives. I'm
back from school, so I came down here for one reason.
That's to watch the loud route Blue Go Cubbies. I'm
really liking it's gonna be nail biding time from Paduca, Kentucky.
This here on the Cops, so there's much confidence today
gate to the home plate. I want to see a team,
(07:27):
a team next grade. I want to see the Cubs, ever,
said my wife's grandfather, a decorated World War Two veteran
who survived being named Bob Weinberg and a German prisoner
of war camp, died in May of that year. He
grew up in Chicago. He loved the Cubs, and as
(07:48):
the season went on, my wife and I talked about
how cruel it seemed for a man to live for
ninety four years, to survive his bomber being shot down
and being held captive, only to die five months before
the World Series. He longed to see. With him in mind,
I reached out to a half dozen area hospitals into
the team itself, looking for fans who were hanging on,
(08:11):
hoping to find someone who might beat Bob's odds. The
Cubs connected me with a woman named Jennie Iverson. She
listened to the games on the radio religiously even at
and loved to tell people she shared a birthday with
Andre Dawson, the Cubs Hall of Famer. She never really
(08:32):
grew up, wearing a tar and feather boa to her
ninety birthday and trying to do one of those college
girl no hand shots on her ninety two birthday. Her
kids loved to pull out photos of her with an
entire shot glass in her mouth. She seemed hilarious to me,
but her family didn't think she was up for a
stranger to visit. I disengaged and didn't think about her
(08:54):
much after that until I was standing at the Wrigley
Field chalk wall. I saw all a woman riding on
the metal gates to the bleachers themselves across the street
from Murphy's. Her name was Mary, Beth, told Hammy, and
she had just finished her message and stood back to
admire it. Mom, thank you for teaching us to believe
(09:14):
in ourselves. Love in the Cubs. Enjoy your view from
the ultimate sky box. I took a picture of her
close enough to overhear her conversation with another stranger to
her left. Mary Beth talked about her mom and how
ESPN had contacted the family. The dots connected in my head.
(09:35):
The hair stood up on my arm. I told her
that was me. She told me her mother was Jenny Iverson,
and then starting to shake and cry, she told me
the news her mom had died. Between Games two and three,
(10:02):
twenty miles northwest, cars parked in groups along the winding
paths of the All Saints Cemetery. An hour remained until
the five pm closing time. It's a Catholic burial ground
out in the middle class suburbs and their dozens, maybe
hundreds of Cubs flags and hats and license plates and signs.
(10:23):
It's one of the many places around Chicago this past
week where the conflicting ideas of joy and pain leave
the realm of the psychological and become attached to action.
People come here for many reasons to say a little prayer,
or talk to someone or to themselves her to believe
that their loved one knows what is happening tonight. Yesterday,
(10:47):
a middle aged woman named Maureen stood for the longest
time at a grave not far away. Maureen touched her
hand to the Cub's logo on her chest and smiled.
Looking back down at the ground, Maureen told me it
was her son. She pointed across the rolling hill to
the most famous grave in the cemetery, which is where
(11:08):
she was headed next to pay respects to Harry Carey
before going to watch the game. His stone has green
apples on top, an inside joke referencing a quote about
the Cubs one day making it to a World Series,
just as surely as God made green apples. Too bad,
we couldn't have had a victory, meant a pennant, But
(11:31):
that will come sure as God made green apples. Someday,
the Chicago Cubs are gonna be in the World Series.
That made sooner that we think. It seems to me
and we walked over and I see what's going on.
They're setting up a radio and I don't know who
the guy is. And then the custodian, I'm like, hi,
(11:52):
I'm right from ESPN. He's like, oh, you're writing a story,
are you? And I'm like, yeah, you got this crewd
on his face like he knew, and he was like,
I'd like you to meet Harry Carrey's son in law,
and just like fuck, really and he's like, yeah, Harry
was the best. I'm like, what was he like? And
he's like, man, we got in trouble. The night the
Bulls won their first title with Michael Jordan's we went
(12:14):
down to Gibson Steakhouse and watched the game, and afterwards,
Harry's like, we gotta go party, and they went down
to Division Street. But the problem was is there were
thousands of people in the street and they were like,
it's fucking Harry Carry. So they get mobbed and their
cops everywhere, and the cops realized that, you know, they're
gonna tear Harry Limb from Limb, So the cops have
to get Harry Carry on this police horse and ride
(12:35):
him out of there. And I can just imagine some
really drunk person the next morning, like, dude, I swear
Harry Carrey was on the back of the police horse.
They placed a radio in a spot they cleared of apples.
They turned it on, tuned it to the local broadcast,
and covered it with a plastic carton. They snaked the
(12:57):
antenna through a hole cut in it, then covered it
with duct tape to keep out the rain. He's done
this before every World Series game, turned on the radio
and let it play. Once the place closed, with the
pregame show already started, he listened to the announcers debate
Corey Kluber and the Cubs ability to hit him. Newell
(13:18):
kneeled down and set a prayer. Then he drove back
towards the city to watch the game. The custodians locked
the fence by the road and near the back of
the cemetery, a radio at the foot of Harry Carey's
grave played the national anthem. In the lineups and the
first pitch, nobody but the dead were around to hear
(13:43):
the hats Chicago has come to Cleveland. This is like
Chicago East out here. Of course, I've been here the
last few days since Sunday, just a couple of hours.
But I will say this, there's also a tension here
and at times it gets a little quiet when people
get overwhelmed with the moments. The nine degrees Another gorgeous
night in Cleveland, Ohio, and will give you a look
(14:05):
out the Chicago lineup. Mary Beth TALHAMI got to her
local bar just as the game began. They love her
at a place called Wildwood Tavern in the suburb of
Niles and the owners saved a bar stool for her.
Her friends hugged her and told her that her mother
was up there helping the Cubs tonight. It's been six
(14:27):
days since Jenny Iverson died, taking her last breath wrapped
in a Cub's blanket. She loved. The baseball has kept
Marybeth distracted. She hasn't even bought a dress for the funeral.
People from the neighborhood filled the bar, which serves steaks
and cold beers, and when the Cubs got their first
out of the game, Mary Beth grinned to go. She said,
(14:53):
two one, that's in the air to center, get m
h start. The Cubs look dominant, a repeat of the
Game six performance, and for the first time, she allowed
(15:13):
herself to feel confident and to consider a life after
this season. When the Cubs took a four one lead,
her lip began to quiver. A friend hugged her and
she started to cry. Sitting in this bar, wearing her
mom's Cubs jacket, waving a plastic Cubs flag that had
been in her mom's room, drying her eyes with a
(15:34):
Cub's rally towel. Someone brought her mom the week before
she died. Mostly what she wanted was to see some
sign that her mother's presence wasn't gone forever. Two hours
after Jenny died last week, mary Beth sent out a
text message to the select people who needed to know.
The bad news is my mom passed away. The good
(15:57):
news is there's another angel in the outfield. When she
met me outside of the ballpark, that was a sign
to she said. And after we left the chalk wall
at Wrigley, she sat in her car and sobbed, and
then ran into Murphy's bleachers to do a shot of
Jamison for her mom. Today, mary Beth saw a rainbow
(16:18):
and said out loud to her mom, can't you leave
me alone already? So the Cub's performance had become tightly
wound together with all sorts of deeper and more personal questions,
which raised the stakes for her run at first Ramirez,
two out, bottom of the eighth. The score stood at
six to three in the eighth inning, four outs, she said,
(16:41):
holding her mom's towel to her face, which was too
new to be laced with the light orange scent of
Jenny's favorite perfume, She looked down to make eye contact
with the bartender so he could pour victory shots. She
shouted to him to get ready now. He asked no.
She said, no, bad mocho win. I will go the
(17:07):
right center that balls down takes. He did us six six.
(17:31):
The Indians scored and then hit a two run homer,
tying the game. She pulled the towel up over her
eyes and said, over and over, oh my fucking god,
Oh my fucking god, Oh my fucking god, Oh my
fucking god, Oh my fucking god. Her niece texted her,
I'm shaking. Keep the faith, baby. Mary Beth responded, I
(17:52):
wish I was with you, Ellie wrote, you are, sweetie.
I sit down at him as all the you know,
they start off and they're they're kicking ass. I mean
it's four one. Everybody's you know, ordering steaks. I mean
I had a steaks in at the bar, and it
feels like this is a core nation, you know. And
(18:13):
then I mean they get within four outs of winning,
and then the Indians come back and it starts raining
and it's going to extra innings, and I mean it's
as tense as I've ever felt a place, because everybody's
been so sure that it was done and people would
allowed themselves to believe. Like there was incredible angst and
(18:36):
anxiety when it started, but a lot of that, frankly,
had sort of gone away. I mean, I don't know
if the people in the room would cop to it now,
but I think everybody thought we got this, and then
it started to fall apart in that very sort of
stereotypically Cubs way that things fall apart. And then the
room was just like, I can't believe we were four
(18:57):
outs away from winning the World Series and we're gonna
ship the best body out nobody on Yo Schobert's a
bat seventeen minute delay. We understand Schobert rips are based
in the right deal. A bullet between Napoli and Kitness
tie game, tenth inning, one day. On the pitch, groundball,
the third base, it down the Leffia line. They go
(19:18):
ahead and run the score. The ball is backheaded by
Guyer where sogers the third double first albreast. Cubs lead
seven six. You talked about a break taking the lead
here in the tenth inning, the pitch m Ontero grumble
let field Basia one unders him sold us around third,
holding Cubs lead eight six. Michael Moon Tero comes through
(19:44):
and now the Clubs lead by two. Cubs of their
second run here at the top of the tenth a
nail bier at Progressive Field in Ohio. This should be
a good match. Then it opened. The Indians were now
(20:04):
up to bat. Carl Edwards Jr. Was on the mound.
A rookie. He struck out the first baseman. The third
baseman was next groundball hit the second base. Two down,
one out to go. Dwyer walks. The tying run was
now at the plate. Rodgi Davis clocks the line drive
(20:27):
the center. Dwyer scores. The winning run is now at
the plate, one out to go. The picture. Edwards has
pulled and Montgomery comes in and oh, one pitch contact,
(20:49):
the jobs says, makes the play. It's over and the
Cubs HiT's finally one all ain't seven and ten stop
h h. The bar around Marybeth got loud. People jumped up,
(21:32):
and the young people to her right hugged and danced
in high fived. Others pounded on the bar, and the
stereo blared, Go Cubs go. Marybeth remained quiet, holding her
victory shot. She raised her glass and tipped it towards
the ceiling, toasting her mom. But then the sobs hit
so hard, her shoulders shaking so violently that she couldn't
(21:54):
drink it until face with it. She'd never really known
how she'd act to the Cubs winning a World Series.
Turns out she thought about her mom. The glass stayed
in her hand for thirty seconds or more until she
finally steadied herself and knocked it back. Then she put
her head in her hands and began to cry. That night,
(22:19):
she fell asleep wrapped in her mom's Cubs blanket the
One Jenny War. The night she died, the town went nuts.
Cars sped down the freeway, waving flags out of windows,
(22:43):
weaving through traffic. Huge crowds gathered on Michigan Avenue, and
every horn seemed to hank at once. Cops blocked the
exits near the stadium. Wrigley Field turned into a Looney Bend,
with one person collapsing to their knees to weep while
others set off firework x near downtown. The Chicago Sun
(23:03):
Times in the Chicago Tribune rolled off the presses packed
into bundles and forklift into waiting trucks. The truck drivers
hung out in their ready room for assignments. Many wore
Cubs gear, and they all talked about the game. Truck
three seventy six rumbled out of the loading bay. Al
Moki behind the wheel, big guy, a Union guy. He
(23:26):
looked both friendly and like he could handle himself and
that typical Chicago way. He'd driven a newspaper truck for
more than thirty years. His father did it for more
than thirty two. It was about two forty five am.
He and his two person team stocked convenient stores and
honor boxes. A man in a white van cut them
off to buy two copies of each paper right from
(23:49):
the truck. Other people pointed when they drove by, understanding
that the passing newspaper delivery meant that the next day
had in fact arrived, and that the sun would be
coming up in a few hours, and that the headlines
proved that none of it had been a dream. The
no Curse world had begun series the first time since
(24:14):
nineteen eight hundred and eight years. The curse is broken.
I'm not even sure put it into words like, Heystogo,
what do you say? It comes go no way to?
I don't know anything about baseball, but I love the
Cups South. Unbelievable. I never thought it had happened. Nineteen
(24:35):
eight is nineteen seventy two vinces Jack right here, Hold Grandpa,
he's pushing ninety. We got married in Chicago. First off
after we got married was Wrigley Field Pictures. There I
got a front Kevin that passed away three years ago.
Big cups hand, he always told us when sixteen was
a year, and sure enough, twenty sixteen. He left the
(25:05):
truck idling outside of seven eleven while he and his
team lugged in bundles. A couple at the counter was
paying for gatorade and bagel bites. When the woman saw
the papers, wait, Grace Kingston said, I want all of those.
She settled on five copies of the Tribune, the A
one headline read at last, and carried her proof home
(25:27):
with the electrolytes and carbs, the most essential food groups
of a post curse hangover. An hour later, a little
after four am, the drivers dropped me off at my hotel,
twenty hours after the previous morning's mass. After saying goodbye,
I sat down to read the paper, first the celebratory
front page story about the Cubs, then working my way
(25:49):
through the rest at the back of the business section.
I found thirty nine death notices people who almost made it.
One was for mary Beth's mom, Virginia iverson page six,
column two at the bottom and read memorial. Contributions may
be made to Chicago Cubs Charities. The address listed is
(26:13):
for Wrigley Field. The Cost of These Dreams is from iHeartMedia,
Graphic Audio, and Right Thompson. This series is produced by
Goat Rodeo. In N Right and Megan Nadolski are the
lead producers. This episode is part of the eight part
(26:37):
series The Cost of These Dreams. Find other episodes wherever
you get your podcasts. If you want to dive in
deeper to write Thompson's The Cost of These Dreams, access
the full audio book wherever you get your audio books.
Discover other works by Right Thompson, including his latest book,
Pappy Land wherever books are sold from the Goat Rodeo team.
(26:58):
Production assistants from A Kasidel, Isabel Kirby McGowan, Hamsashi Too,
Maxwell Johnston, and Kara Shillen. Music by Ian N. Right,
Our Deep Thanks to Right Thompson, Caitlin Riley, and John Weiss.
Thanks for listening.
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