I am not here to speak ill of the dead. Not here to say anything bad about Bernie Mac, who passed away this morning. I am simply here to tell you about what I’ve thought about every time I’ve heard the name “Bernie Mac” for the past five years.
On the evening of October 14, 2003, during the 7th inning stretch in Game 6 of the National League Championship Series between the Chicago Cubs and the Florida Marlins at Wrigley Field, the Cubs were up 2 – 0. That’s it. Just two runs.
Bernie Mac is up in the booth. He sings “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”. Perfectly fine rendition from a local boy done good.
The he says it. Instead of singing, “root, root, root for the Cubbies”, he says, “root, root, root for the Champs!”.
I was listening on the radio, traveling eastbound on the Irving Park bus going down to the stadium to see if I could be a part of something special. I immediately said, “Uh oh. Not good.”
Being a native of Pittsburgh (4 Steelers championships, 1 Pirates “We Are Family” championship) and a profoundly devoted Chicagoan (1 Bears championship and the 6 Bulls winners) I’d been around long enough and seen enough goofy shit happen (see Immaculate Reception and Phoenix triple overtime) to know that you never, ever, never, ever, never, ever, never, ever say that the game is won before it is won.
Never. But he did. And he shouldn’t have. The Cubs lost the game, 8 -3. Sometimes it is called the Bartman Game, but it shouldn’t be.
God bless us all.