A Cubs family

The day after the Chicago Cubs clinched a spot in the World Series for the first time in 71 years, I called an old friend.

At some point during our conversation, I shared a secret. As much as I would love to see the Cubs finally win the World Series, I said, I want this most for my dad.

Without pause, my buddy said, “You don’t hear Mariners fans say that.”

He could not have made a better point.

And it has nothing to do with the Mariners, but everything to do with the Cubs.

I was born in 1977, the Mariners’ first season as a Major League Baseball organization.

My dad is 70 years old. Before this season, the last time the Cubs advanced to the World Series was a year before he was born. That still blows my mind.

Before this season, the Cubs last won the World Series in 1908.

That’s the year my grandfather was born.

From Gabby Hartnett, to Ernie Banks, to Ryne Sandberg, to Kris Bryant, generations of my family has loved this team, the tradition. And we have all been waiting for this moment.

In the days since Chicago outlasted Cleveland 8-7 in 10 innings in Game 7 of the 2016 World Series, a night that could be the most memorable and significant in MLB history, I have read so many stories about not just the Cubs, but the fans. Many share a common theme, one I can relate too.

Family.

One of the most memorable I read tells the story of a North Carolina man who drove to Indiana to listen to Game 7 on his smart phone at his father’s gravesite. I’m fortunate that my father was able to see Game 7. And after I watched the Cubs finally win it all, I imagined by grandfather and great uncles having a couple of cold ones with the likes of Ernie, Harry and Santo celebrating the Cubs victory up in baseball heaven.

I love sports. I love my teams. Aside from family, I’m more passionate about my teams than anything.

And when it comes to the Cubs, nothing can compare.

To me, the Cubs equal family.

Baseball equals family.

I’m the first Bartz in at least three generations not to be born in Chicago. I was born in Ketchikan, grew up in Colorado and later Alaska. But there’s Chicago in me. There’s a certain spirit Chicago fans — Cubs faithful in particular — share. It’s the reason why, regardless of it’s a 100-win season or 100-loss season, we have all continued to bleed blue year after year.

To me, my sports allegiances have always been hereditary. I have loved the Cubs, just as my father does, and my grandfathers and great uncles did for as long as I can remember. It’s something I was born into.

Chicago sports.

Cubs, Bears, Blackhawks, Bulls. There was never any doubt. I can’t imagine being a part of a family that does not share the bond of the allegiance to their teams.

I’m blessed to extend my love for the Cubs to another generation. I’ve turned my wife into a Cubs fan. Before we were together, she may have watched a total of about nine innings in her life. During the postseason, wearing her own Cubs gear, she was cheering just as loudly as I was.

My daughter Alyson, wearing her Cubs hat, watched just about every second of the series with me. My youngest, Abi, sang, “Go Cubs Go.”

But I am sure that’s because I promised Abi if the Cubs won the World Series, she’d get the kittens she’s been wanting for ages.

But I get to name them.

Rizzo and Rossy, after Cubs first baseman Anthony Rizzo and catcher David Ross.

I also named my dog Wrigley.

You get the idea.

We’re a Cubs family.

Contact Mat-Su Valley Frontiersman sports editor Jeremiah Bartz at sports@frontiersman.com.