We stared at our TVs in disbelief, trying to process the unthinkable.
How did this happen? Why did we not see it coming?
Lulled into a false sense of security by our unbridled optimism, we tried to comprehend another epic fail, just as we did after the last big loss, and the one before that.
You would think we’d be immune to it by now, after growing up sports fans in Chicago in the 1960s. You learned at an early age how to deal with that shocking gut-punch, the sudden momentum shift that turned a surefire victory into the agony of defeat.
My first time was the Blackhawks’ loss to the Montreal Canadiens in Game 7 of the 1971 Stanley Cup Finals. The ‘69 Cubs collapse was still in the back of our minds, but that happened in slow-motion fashion, and we were back in school by September when the slide got real.
Things would be different this time. We were certain of that.
The Hawks had advanced to the ’71 Finals with a seven-game series win over the New York Rangers and had a 2-0 lead near the end of the second period when Jacques Lemaire’s 60-foot shot from near-center ice landed over the right shoulder of Hawks goaltender Tony Esposito.
The rest is history — a stunning 3-2 loss that sent thousands of kids like me to bed in tears.
Sixty-three years have flown by in the blink of an eye. We’ve since seen the Hawks win three Cups. The Bears won a Super Bowl. The Cubs and White Sox captured one World Series apiece. And the Bulls built an actual dynasty in the ’90s.
Crushing defeats have occurred for sure, like the Bulls’ Mother’s Day loss in the 1975 conference semifinals or the 2003 Cubs’ playoff collapse in Game 6.
But at least we weren’t 0-for-forever.
Now we’re seemingly back in the Dark Ages, looking for signs of better days ahead. As Samuel L. Jackson’s character said in “Unbreakable” said: “These are mediocre times. … People are starting to lose hope.”
It certainly looks bleak, I think we can all admit.
Only a few weeks ago we had a pep in our step, thinking of a bright future and an era of enlightenment. Momentum was on our side. A new leader had taken the wheel. An improved ground game would assure victory. The gloom and doom of the past soon would become a distant memory.
We ignored the pessimists, the ones who told us we were getting ahead of ourselves, that there was still plenty of time left to blow it.
“Eh. What do they know?”
They’ve been saying the same thing for years. Sure, we let our optimism run amok before and got burned. That’s part of life.
But things would be different this time. We were certain of that.
It’s undeniable now we were only deluding ourselves, believing in the audacity of hope while ignoring reality. We looked too far ahead instead of staying in the moment. And here we are, feeling like Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day,” doomed to relive the past over and over again.
The finger-pointing already has begun: How did this happen? Whom can we blame?
The usual suspects, naturally. Our out-of-touch leaders who talk a good game but don’t really know how to win. We were right there on the doorstep of the goal line when they tried to get “too cute.”
The strategy backfired, and when questioned about their glaring mistakes, they gave us the same, tired answers, just like their predecessors.
It was all so predictable. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
So now what?
Staying in bed is always an option, and one that takes the least amount of energy. But that’s the easy way out. We don’t walk away from adversity, or at least we haven’t before. We’ve been double-doinked most of our lives only to rekindle our optimism down the road. At some point you just have to get up, shake it off and rub some dirt on it.
Life goes on, win or lose.
But that doesn’t make you feel better right now, especially if you’re still waking up in the middle of the night with flashbacks. A complete recovery is going to take awhile. But as many coaches, managers and players have said ad nauseam, it’s important to “tune out the noise.”
Stop listening to the experts. Quit doomscrolling, or better yet, just delete your X account. Turn off the angry debaters on cable TV and talk radio. Unattach the antenna you just bought.
Go rake the yard. Enjoy the September weather that’s somehow morphed into mid-November. Listen to WXRT or whatever music you enjoy.
We’ll get through this, no matter the pain and humiliation of losing after victory was within our grasp. We’ve taken plenty of hard knocks before and always gotten back up. Just another lesson in life, learned the hard way.
A Hail Mary like no other left us sitting and staring at our TVs in disbelief, and days and sleepless nights later, some of us have yet to recover.
But Sunday is a new day. Unseasonably mild weather is in the forecast.
We’ll gather together like the citizens of Whoville after the Grinch stole Christmas, celebrating with our families and friends as though nothing has changed. Remember, this is not the first end-of-the-world gut-punch we’ve experienced.
Things have looked bleak before. Nevertheless, we’ve persisted.
In times like these, it’s important to remember the words of a wise, old man:
“This, too, shall pass.”
