There is one last step in the grieving process: acceptance. I just want to say, I’m not quite there.
I don’t pretend to think the Cubs have a realistic chance of winning the rest of their games. Or the Rockies losing the rest of theirs. Or the Braves cooling off dramatically. Or the Giants and the Marlins both failing their way through the final week. Obviously that’s way too many individually far-fetched and collectively impossible contingencies to hope for.
But the off day shared by the Cubs and Rockies has given our playoff chances one more day on life-support. However faint the pulse, however rattling the breaths, this dying vegetable of a season is not yet clinically dead.
I’ve gone through all the other stages of grief. I can’t deny the fate of this team. I lack the strength to appropriately arouse my anger at Paul Sullivan’s feeble excuses for journalism. I have lost all bargaining power. I’m done trying to be positive. But I’m just not ready to check the box next to Acceptance.
I’m going to enjoy the gigantic deep breath that is this off day. And on Tuesday, I’ll hope the Cubs can make it through one more day. I won’t even think about Wednesday.
Holler if you’re with me.