You know what? I’m here to talk about the Chicago Cubs. Not just the team, not just their legacy — but *their history*. April 10th in baseball is a day that carries echoes of triumph, tragedy, and transformation. But when you say “Chicago Cubs,” people think of Wrigley Field, the ivy-covered walls, the bleachers, the North Side, the long droughts — the 108 years without a World Series title, the curse, the pain, the heartbreak. But today is more than that.
April 10th? It’s not just about the Cubs’ current struggles or their magical 2016 season. No. This day in baseball history has *layers*. Layers of legacy, of identity, of moments that shape the very foundation of what it means to be a fan, a player, and a city.
Let’s start with 1913 — the New York Highlanders become the Yankees. That’s not about the Cubs, but it sets up a narrative. The Yankees are born on this day in baseball history, and they’re going to dominate for decades. But here’s the thing: when you look at the Cubs, you can’t help but see them as the underdog, the team that has always been overlooked, overshadowed by the Yankees, the Red Sox, even the White Sox.
And then we get to 1947 — Jackie Robinson signs with the Brooklyn Dodgers. That’s not about the Cubs either, but it *is* about baseball history. It’s about breaking barriers, about changing the game forever. And if you think about what that moment meant for American sports and culture, you have to recognize how far we’ve come — and how far we still have to go.
But here’s where I want to focus: 1962. That was a year of expansion in baseball. The Colt .45s (now the Astros) made their debut against the Cubs at Colt Stadium. And yes, it was a lopsided game — the Cubs lost 11-2. But here’s what that means to me: it’s a reminder that even on days when you’re not winning, when you’re playing in front of fans who are coming to see the new team from Houston, you still have a role in the story of baseball.
And then we get to 1979 — Bill Veeck gives away free tickets because the White Sox lost their opener. That’s not about the Cubs directly, but it is about innovation and creativity. It’s about understanding that fans want more than just games; they want *experiences*. And if you’re a team owner who understands that, you’re going to do what’s necessary to keep people coming back.
But 1997 — the Cubs go 0-8 on Opening Day. That is a dark day in Chicago baseball history. The team was at rock bottom, and it felt like the curse had taken hold. But here’s what I want you to remember: that loss? It wasn’t just about the game. It was about a city’s spirit — a city that had waited too long for something good to happen.
And then there’s 2013 — Jorge Soler gets ejected from a minor league game after getting spiked and charging the dugout with a bat. That’s not just a moment in Cubs history; it’s a reminder of how fragile things can be. A single incident, a single moment of frustration, and you’re looking at a suspension, a missed opportunity, a player who might have had his career derailed.
But then we get to 2017 — the Cubs raise their first World Series banner in over a century. And it was delayed because of rain. But what does that tell you? It tells you that even when things don’t go perfectly, there’s still hope. That when the sun finally breaks through, and the banner is raised, it’s worth every second.
Now, I want to talk about legacy — real legacy. Not just the 2016 team that ended a century of heartbreak, but the entire history of this franchise. The Cubs have been there for over 150 years. They’ve seen presidents throw out first pitches. They’ve watched players like Ernie Banks and Ryne Sandberg become legends.
And yet — here’s what I find so frustrating: when you look at the modern Cubs, they are a team that has had moments of greatness but also moments of mediocrity. A team that has spent years trying to build a winner but still seems to be stuck in the same old cycle.
You know what? That’s not acceptable.
The Cubs have the resources — they’ve got money, they’ve got talent, they’ve got history on their side. But somehow, they’re still playing games where the outcome feels uncertain. Where the fans are still waiting for something to happen.
And let’s be real: when you look at teams like the Yankees or the Dodgers, they have a tradition of winning. They don’t just build a team; they *maintain* it. They invest in their legacy — not just on the field but off it. They understand that baseball is about more than just playing games; it’s about building a culture.
But when you look at the Cubs, what do you see? You see a franchise that has had moments of brilliance — like 2016 — but also moments where they’ve failed to capitalize on their success. Like in recent seasons, they’ve been contenders again, but they haven’t been able to close the deal.
And here’s the thing: when you’re in a position to win — and you’re not doing it — that’s not just failure; that’s *negligence*. That’s not just bad management; it’s a slap in the face to the fans who have waited for over 100 years for something good.
You know what I’m saying? This isn’t about one team or one player. It’s about the entire organization — from the front office down to the dugout. When you’re given the chance to be great, and you don’t take it, that’s not just a missed opportunity; it’s an affront to the game itself.
And I can’t stand for that.
The Cubs have a legacy — a rich, storied one. But they also have a responsibility. They have a duty to their fans, to their city, to this sport. And if they’re going to be remembered as more than just the team that broke the curse in 2016, they need to do more than just win one season.
They need to *build* something lasting.
Now, let me address some of you directly — I’m talking to the players on that roster. You know who you are. You’ve been given a chance to be part of something special — not just for yourselves, but for this city. And yet, time and again, you’ve fallen short.
You want to be remembered? Then start acting like it matters. Stop taking your opportunities for granted. Stop playing games where you’re just going through the motions.
This isn’t about winning every game — that’s not what I’m saying. But if you have a chance to win a championship again, and you don’t take it, then what does that say about you?
It says that you’re complacent. That you think one World Series title is enough. That you think 2016 was some magical fluke — like it just happened by accident.
No. It didn’t happen by accident. It happened because the Cubs had a plan, a strategy, and a vision for what they wanted to be.
So here’s my challenge to them: don’t let that go to waste. Don’t let 2016 become a footnote in your history — it should be the beginning of something greater.
And if you’re not willing to do that? Then what are you doing on that team?
You know, I’ve watched this league for years — and I’ve seen every kind of team there is. Teams that build from within, teams that spend their way into contention, teams that have it all but can’t seem to put it together.
But the Cubs? They should be different. They *have* to be different.
Because when you look at the history of this franchise — from Jackie Robinson’s legacy to Bill Veeck’s innovations — you see a team that has always been on the cutting edge. That has always had the potential to lead, not just follow.
So if they’re going to continue that tradition, then they need to do more than just win games. They need to *define* what it means to be a Chicago Cub in this new era of baseball.
And I’m telling you: if they don’t? If they continue to stumble and fall short — not just once or twice, but year after year — then I won’t be the only one who calls them out. Because when you have that kind of history, that kind of legacy, and you squander it?
That’s an *unmitigated disaster*.
Because this isn’t just about baseball anymore. It’s about identity. It’s about what it means to be a fan in Chicago — to believe in something, to wait for something, to dream about something.
And if the Cubs are going to be that team again — not just for one season but for generations to come — then they need to act like it matters.
Because I can promise you this: when history is written about the Chicago Cubs, I want it to say that they didn’t just break a curse in 2016. I want it to say that they built something *better* than that.
That’s what legacy is — not just surviving, but thriving.
So here’s my message to the Cubs organization: don’t let this moment pass you by again. Don’t let history become your enemy. Don’t let the fans who have waited for over a century feel like their patience was wasted.
Because if they do? Then I’ll be right there — standing on that corner, shouting into the wind, telling everyone exactly what I think about it.
And believe me — I’ll say it loud and proud. Because when you’ve got a legacy like this, you *owe* it to yourself, to your fans, and to the game of baseball itself.
So let’s get back to work — not just for one season, but for the future of this franchise.
Because if there’s one thing I know about the Chicago Cubs? They’re not done yet. Not by a long shot.