As a child growing up in Southern Michigan, I (along with practically everyone else) rooted for two baseball teams. The Tigers were, of course, my American League favorite and the Cubs were my team in the National League. This was certainly due to both geography and the clock.

I remember coming home from school every day in the spring and fall and turning on WGN to see if the Cubs were playing at home. Remember, this was before Wrigley Field had been outfitted with lights. All of the Cubs home games started an an oh-so-convenient 2:20. There were no after school cartoons for this boy. No, sir. Instead I hustled home to try to catch Jack Brickhouse or Harry Carey on the "Lead-Off Man" show. I'd then watch Ivan DeJesus and the boys lose.

On-and-on it went. For the better part of a decade I was one of the diehards. After high school I finally got a chance to attend a few games at Wrigley Field. Wrigley truly is a beautiful old ballpark in a typical Chicago neighborhood. The only problem, though, is that it's filled with Cub fans. I'll let it go at that...

These Cub fans continued to come in droves for decades. The club's ownership, meanwhile, knew that they had a built-in fan base. They never had to spend any money on players to bring in new supporters. Kind of like Star Trek, now that I think about it. As a result, the product on the field was lackluster and the boneheads in the stands were the worst. Enough to drive this guy to the American League for life.

So, thanks to those who called and e-mailed thinking I was still one of the diehards. In 1982 I would have thought it was pretty cool. Last night I just sort of shrugged.