[Timber Loftis]

Etiquette for the proper Cubs fan
Mike Downey

October 3, 2003

OK, you Prior-Maniacs, get fired up.

Here is what I want from you on Friday night at Wrigley Field, you true-blue Cub-lovin' brothers and sisters:

(And this also goes for all of you Tele-Cubbies who will watch the game on TV.)

1. All blue.

I do not want to see any other color shirt or coat—not red, not green, not aquamarine. Do you read me?

I will make an exception—just one—for a white or gray Prior shirt, Wood shirt, Sosa shirt ("Sammy" acceptable), Santo shirt, Sandberg shirt, Banks shirt, Williams shirt (Billy for sure and Mitch, well, OK, why not?), Hundley shirt (Randy only), "1908 World Champions" shirt, "I Hate the '69 Mets" shirt, Bleacher Bums shirt, Curse of Billy Goat shirt, Leon Durham shirt (to error is human, to forgive divine), "No Lights at Wrigley" shirt (ditto), "Save Ferris Bueller" shirt, "In Dusty We Trusty" shirt, "Save Darren Baker" shirt, Alou shirt (please specify M. Alou and not F. Alou for San Francisco series to follow) or the popular but rare Grudzielanek shirt (because of the time and work it takes to sew "Grudzielanek" on a shirt).

2. No tomahawks.

If you should spot an Indian-imitating, hatchet-wielding, warpaint-wearing, war-chanting Dancing With Atlanta Braves yahoo here on the native soil of our proud and noble Chief Illiniwek, be sure to send up a smoke signal and send for help.

No violence or actual smoke, please. Other than that, be sure to convey to these Dixie chicks and dudes that if they want to continue to chop at the air with tiny toy tomahawks and make "hay-yo" noises like a party of 40,000 Ed McMahons, we may be forced to retaliate by pelting them with hundreds of Dusty Baker Beanie Babies.

3. No sign language.

Chicago fans don't need tiny tomahawks, thundersticks or cute little white towels and homer hankies.

In place of a "tomahawk chop," however, if you feel that you simply must do something with your hands when a TV lens is aimed at you, I do have an idea.

Curl your left thumb and fingers like so:

C

See? Make a "C" with your left hand that looks like the one on a Cubs' cap. This is your signal to the world that you are a natural born fan, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part, kind of like a "Hook 'em Horns" hand gesture in Texas.

4. No fake beards.

Remember now, Matt Clement, the Chicago pitcher with the Chia Pet chin, will not pitch until Game 4. So please save for then any Maynard G. Krebs or Eric Gagne beatnik goatee, pointy Lucifer or DePaul Blue Demon beard or fuzzy Captain Ahab or Honest Abe whiskers that you have bought from a Halloween costume shop in Clement's honor.

Saturday afternoon's game at Wrigley will be your paste-on Clement beard day, not Friday.

5. Loud chanting.

No tribal rain-dance stuff.

A plain old "Let's Go, Cubs!" will do just fine, thank you.

"Why Not Us?" I also like, in case you want to give it a try.

(This was what Dusty Baker said after he got hired, when somebody asked if the Cubs ever would win a championship.)

"J. Lo! J. Lo!" each time Braves catcher Javy Lopez comes to bat also could be fun, so keep that in mind.

And there you have it.

You now are prepared officially for Wrigley Field playoff baseball.

The games themselves, well, there is not a whole lot else to tell you about these, except for the fact Mark Prior, who just turned 23 a month ago, will pitch Game 3 for the Cubs against the great Greg Maddux, who must be at least 2,000 years old by now. It is the young against the ageless, the prodigy versus the professor, the boy wonder doing battle with a longtime superhero.

And by weekend's end, only the strong will have survived.

So if you want Chicago to win and you want this series to end right here and now, to not go back Sunday night to Atlanta, then turn up the heat on your guests and make your own team feel at home. Be loud, be loyal, behave, be brave.

And oh, one more thing.

Be sure to remember that in this town, when you sing the national anthem before a big baseball game, the last word is "Cubs," not that other word.
Copyright © 2003, The Chicago Tribune