The Cubs won 103 games and spent all but one day in first place, though the marathon proved unrelenting. He saw bags under his teammates’ eyes, the remnants of a long season. “The guys were in here playing Mario Kart, they were in here watching TV, listening to music, cutting up,” said Heyward, who spotted only one discernible difference between a game played in November and one played in June. He had found inspiration in the movie, insisting that the Cubs would find a way to “go the distance.” As promised, Rizzo added another heavy dose of “Rocky” to the pregame music selection. “We get anxious and nerve-wracked like everybody else.”īefore taking the field, it was business as usual in their clubhouse.
They heard boos as they stretched for the biggest game of their lives. Kris Bryant and Rizzo appeared on the field first, followed shortly by Heyward and Ben Zobrist. “There’s no boundaries on anything,” Lester declared the night before. Later, the three would make another walk from the dugout to the bullpen. His left arm would have plenty of weight to carry. One more victory would give the Cubs the first 3-1 comeback on the road since the Pirates did it in 1979.įor that same reason, they took the bus, even though the team hotel was only a half-mile away, a 15-minute walk at most.Īt the back of the pack was the trio of John Lackey, Jake Arrieta and Lester, who lugged the roller bag that carried his belongings with his right arm. They had come back from a three-games-to-one deficit to even the series at 3-3. Shortstop Addison Russell made it official, squeezing a pop-up from Jason Kipnis to give the Cubs their second straight victory while facing elimination.
Now they were champions at long last, their reward for weathering the final hours of the most infamous drought in the history of professional sports. The Cubs had gone 39,466 days, 9 hours and 22 minutes since last winning the World Series. “I love you,” they said, over and over, their faces glazed in disbelief. Grown men jumped up and down and into each other’s arms. “A curse to me is an excuse,” said Jon Lester, who pitched three innings in relief. Now they sprayed each other with champagne and beer, cleansing whatever decades-long curses had befallen them. But it was merely a prelude to perhaps the most important 17 minutes in franchise history, during a rain delay before the 10th inning, when Jason Heyward called a team meeting to settle his troops.