09-10-2009, 03:18 PM
I was 10 years old in '84. My dad had died about 10 months earlier and I really took solace in the Cubs' success in 1984. It was sort of a nice way to escape the fact that I was going to grow up fatherless. Of course, all of it came crashing down as I was introduced to my first case of Cubs heartbreak. Maybe that was good for me, though. I quickly learned, at an early age, that life is just a series of kicks to the groin. You just hope that you can get some recovery time between each kick.