 I’ve been bleeding Cubbie blue since I was 14 years old—back when heartbreak wasn’t a possibility, it was a guarantee. I’ve lived through every gut-punch season, every blown lead, every “this could be the year” that somehow… wasn’t. Still, like every true fan of the Chicago Cubs, I kept coming back with that stubborn, irrational hope: Wait ‘til next year!
And through all those years, all those rosters and revolving heroes, one name stood above the rest for me—Ryne Sandberg. “Ryno.” The steady one. The guy you could believe in when belief was in short supply.
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