90 Miles: The Beginnings of a Rivalry

It was October, 2003. I was finishing as a music student at the University of Minnesota – Duluth. In the meantime, I was working full time teaching music lessons and slinging guitars at the local used guitar shop. Life was full bore music. If I wasn’t teaching it, I was playing it. There was schoolwork to do, and when that dried up then I was drinking copious amounts of beer with friends. In hindsight, I was having a blast. When you’re young there’s always some downtime for fun. While all that was going on, one of the best friends I had was a big baseball fan. More specifically a Cubs fan. That was new for me. Twins, sure. Braves, yes. But I had always been a Brewer fan. A Cubs fan friend was new. This time it would change me, because at one point in high school, MLB went on strike. My inclination toward professional baseball had been changed.

For perspective, I grew up in a very small town. Many of the people I hung with and around were blue collar, hard working folk. A lot of farmers and mechanics. There were plenty of mid level, white collar workers whose sons were good friends of mine as well. Millionaires going on strike because they didn’t feel as though ownership was treating them proper never sits well in those places. Really, it sits poorly in most places. With age, I came to understand the why, and the bigger picture, but back then I was just a kid that was disappointed. A game I loved not being played over money. Gobs of it according to my peers and the locals. Those are tough pills to swallow for someone whose destiny is simply being a fan. For several years after, I hardly followed the game. I knew about the Bonds and Sosa saga, I wasn’t ignorant. However, wasn’t invested either. Like much of the sporting country, I had turned my full attention to football (clearly no one remembered THAT strike). The opinion was put upon me that when spoiled millionaires can’t get out and play, then I didn’t need to get out and watch. Ryan didn’t change my mind. He didn’t worry about that. He just showed me what I was missing.

We were introduced in my second year of college in a music composition class. By my 4th year Ryan Rapsys and I had become good friends. It turned out that he was a huge baseball fan. More specifically, he was a huge Cubs fan. We covered why I didn’t care much for baseball anymore. That didn’t stop him from talking about it. Or from him making me watch Kerry Wood’s 20 strikeout game. Or better yet, him talking about Ron Santo announcing games through his struggle with diabetes. The more he talked about baseball, the more I wanted to pick at the fun points. I countered with Ben Sheets’ 18 strikeout performance, talked about Bob Uecker’s winding yarns on the radio. Uecker and his legacy in comedy and film. That’s when we started playing baseball games on Xbox, and before I knew it, I was a baseball fan again. A much bigger fan than I had been before. All my love of the Brewers growing up was rekindled and ready to be fired.

Along came the 2003 season, and we were now 5 years into the Milwaukee Brewers having been moved from the American League to the National League Central. I’m a Brewers fan, he’s a Cubs fan. Our teams played each other a lot and we were enjoying the ride. For me, baseball was fun again. It didn’t matter that the Brewers were awful and the Cubs were very good. Time was moving more slowly then. The trick was on me though. In Duluth, the leaves fall early. As the colors unfolded the playoffs began. The seasons changed, and out of thin air, Ryan was a different dude.

I had seen signs of this coming. Once the playoffs began I realized I was dealing with a whole new person. Every pitch, every swing and miss was life and death. As a Packer fan, I got it. It was playoff time. Do or die. The Cubs cleared the divisional series in 5 games. During that series, I sat through a couple games at Ryan’s place trying to root for the Cubs a bit. It had been FOREVER since the Cubs had won a World Series after all, and since there really wasn’t much of a rivalry between the two clubs (yet), I genuinely wanted to be happy for Ryan and his Cubbies. His family history as fans ran deep. It truly mattered to him. When you learn that history about someone, it stays with you.

For clarity, I grew up in west central Wisconsin. A small town called Fall Creek. My grandfather coached me in basketball and football up to the varsity level, and I had been immersed in sports since before I can remember. Fall Creek is a little over 2 hours from the twin cities, Minneapolis and St. Paul. At the same notion, it was 4 plus hours from Milwaukee, so the area had a split on favorite baseball teams. My estimate was 60% Brewers, 25% Twins. The other 15% were mostly Cubs or Braves fans. Many know the reasons those out of market clubs have bigger followings than normal. Nothing through the 80’s had been more powerful than WGN presenting Cubs games to cable households across this country. TBS took note, and followed suit with the Braves. So if you didn’t know, there’s good reason we have Cubs and Braves fans everywhere in this country. 

Sidenote: The Braves won a World Series as the Milwaukee Braves in 1957, defeating the mighty Yankees. In 1958, the Braves met the Yanks again, this time unable to hang onto a 3-1 series lead. But that’s another story for another day. Milwaukee really is a baseball town, in case you didn’t know.

The main reason I bring up Milwaukee itself at this point is because I hadn’t lived anywhere near it. I didn’t comprehend the closeness of the Chicago/Milwaukee markets. I had no particular jading toward the Cubs. The city and people of Chicago itself were generally fine. Due to the Brewers AL history, I didn’t care for the White Sox much, but there was no hate. In fact, during college in Duluth MN, I had attempted to follow the Minnesota Twins, former rivals of the Brewers in the AL Central. That failed. That should have been clue enough for the direction with my friendship with Ryan and his cubbies…

Time machine back to October, 2003. We’re at Ryan’s place, the snacks and brews are out and the Cubs are playing Marlins to go to the World Series. I found myself more and more amused every time something went the Marlins way. Watching my best Cub fan friend melt down little by little every time something went a little sideways became a bit enjoyable. I was surprised. I sincerely thought I was bigger than that… It was in those moments, I knew I couldn’t do it. I could never root for any baseball team not based in Milwaukee. And the Cubs were no exception.

I watched the Cubs lose in Wrigley that night. The next game I couldn’t be at Ryan’s, but some guy with headphones interfered with the play on the field. Moises “Pee on my hands” Alou flipped out. The Cubs would continue on to find a way to lose, and eventually lose the series. Oh, how I miss those lovable losers.

This time in my life was also confirmation that baseball fans, like all fanatics, are completely irrational. Inherently prone to overreaction, rarely forgiving, and completely inconsolable when the breaks don’t go their way. Watching Steve Bartman get shredded for his part over years was utterly disappointing, but not surprising. Human nature blending with sport is a funny thing sometimes.

Since those days now passed, Ryan and I have been friendly rivals. We’ve put up with each other talking about the moves our team is making. Always comparing and contrasting what club has the better pieces. Ripping the Cardinals, because we can at least agree on that, right? Tony LaRussa? Don’t get me started. 1982? Yep, we’ll get to that… In our down time even today we’re debating who, what, where, when, why all things focused on the Brewers and the Cubs. We’ve watched this set of circumstances grow up into what it is today. A real, 90 mile rivalry. Little love lost between two fan bases that couldn’t be much the same on any level. But in the end we’re all baseball fans, and that is what 90 Miles is all about. The Cubs. The Brewers. The rivalry, history, and future of these two clubs separated by a mere 90 miles. The Cubs and their nationwide following. The Brewers and their rabid fan base that knows how to get loud. This rivalry has become a bitter one, and proximity not only fuels that, but makes it fun. Sometimes it goes too far, but would it be a mere 90 Miles if it didn’t?