Dying Wishes and Dying Innings: Steve Goodman’s Love Song to the Cubs.
Steve Goodman’s ode to the Chicago Cubs entitled “Dying Cub Fan’s Last Request” embodies the quirky romance fans have with baseball. It’s a tale of the tragically perfect woes Windy City fans have with their team.
Goodman wrote this baseball song gem in 1981 just three years before his tragic death from leukemia. Unfortunately Steve didn’t make it to see the Cubs finally in the playoffs later that year for the first time in decades. He would have been proud of Keith Moreland for catching more than his share of routine flies.
Some of Goodman’s ashes were actually scattered over the grass at Wrigley by his best buds. It is said that the rest of his ashes were laid to rest at Doubleday Field near the National Baseball Hall of Fame.
In case you were wondering (and I was when I wrote this story), the 1981 Cubs were awful (click here for more on this). Led by Bill Buckner, Jody Davis and Leon Durham, they were lovable loser yet again… finishing the year at 38-65 in the strike shortened season.
Bonnie Stiernberg, music editor of Paste magazine, said that Goodman’s song is “everything one could possibly want a song about the Cubs to be—devastating, self-deprecating, nostalgic, full of that Midwestern wryness that you need to make it through harsh winters and decades of losing seasons.” I couldn’t agree more.
For those not familiar with Steve Goodman, he is forever tied to one of Americana’s greatest voices John Prine… click here for the story how Goodman sacrificed his own career when Kris Kristofferson came to visit.
Although I don’t know Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder personally, I am going to make a plea with him to play a rendition of this great song for us of us to enjoy. Stay tuned on that…
Goodman also wrote “Go Cubs Go” which he performed with pal Jimmy Buffett of more than one occasion.
In the meantime, here are words of “Dying Cubs Fans.
Enjoy…
By the shores of old Lake Michigan
Where the hawk wind blows so cold
An old Cub fan lay dying
In his midnight hour, the tollAround his bed, his friends had all gathered
They knew his time was short
On his head, they put this bright blue cap
From his all-time favorite sportHe told ’em, “It’s late, and it’s getting dark in here
And I know it’s to time to go
But before I leave the lineup
Boys, there’s just one thing that I’d like to know“Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around?
When the snow melts away, do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground?“When I was a boy, they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave, the land of the free
And the doormat of the National League”He told his friends, “You know, the law of averages says
Anything will happen that can” that’s what it says
“But the last time the Cubs won a National League pennant
Was the year we dropped the bomb on Japan“The Cubs made me a criminal, sent me down a wayward path
They stole my youth from me, that’s the truth
I’d forsake my teachers to go sit in the bleachers
In flagrant truancy“And then one thing led to another
And soon I discovered alcohol, gambling, dope
Football, hockey, lacrosse, tennis
But what do you expect?“When you raise up a young boy’s hopes
And then just crush ’em like so many paper beer cups
Year after, year after, year
After year, after year, after year, after year, after year
‘Till those hopes are just so much popcorn
For the pigeons beneath the ‘L’ tracks to eat”He said, “You know, I’ll never see Wrigley Field anymore before my eternal rest
So if you have your pencils and your scorecards ready
Then I’ll read you my last request”He said, “Give me a doubleheader funeral in Wrigley Field
On some sunny weekend day, no lights
Have the organ play the National Anthem
And then a little ‘Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye’“Make six bullpen pitchers carry my coffin
And six groundskeepers clear my path
Have the umpires bark me out at every base
In all their holy wrath“It’s a beautiful day for a funeral
Hey, Ernie, let’s play two
Somebody go get Jack Brick-house to come back
And conduct just one more interview“Have the Cubbies run right out into the middle of the field
Have Keith Moreland drop a routine fly
Give everybody two bags of peanuts and a frosty malt
And I’ll be ready to die“Build a big fire on home plate out of your Louisville Slugger baseball bats
And toss my coffin in
Let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow
From the prevailing thirty-mile-an-hour southwest wind“And when my last remains go flying over the left field wall
We’ll bid the bleacher bums adieu
I will come to my final resting place
Out on Waveland Avenue”The dying man’s friends told him to cut it out
They said, “Stop it” and “That’s an awful shame”
He whispered, “Don’t cry, we’ll meet by and by
Near the heavenly hall of fame”He said, “I’ve got seasons tickets to watch the angels now
So it’s just what I’m gonna do”
He said, “But you the living, you’re stuck here with the Cubs
So it’s me who feels sorry for you”And he said, “Oh, play, play that ‘Lonesome Losers’ tune
That’s the one I like the best”
Closed his eyes and slipped away
Well, Scotty, it was the dying Cub fan’s last request, so here it is“Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around?
When the snow melts away, do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground?When I was a boy, they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave, the land of the free
And the doormat of the National League”
Whether you bleed Cubbie blue or not, take five minutes and listen to “A Dying Cub Fan’s Last Request.” You’ll laugh. You might cry. And you’ll understand what it means to love something flawed, stubborn, and forever hopeful.
🎶 “Let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow / From the prevailing 30-mile-an-hour southwest wind…”
In the end, Goodman gave us the most honest baseball song ever written. And like the best Cubs fans, he went out smiling through the pain.