Andra basen: Chicago
I Chicago finns det två olika baseboll-lag, "Cubs" och "White Sox". Chicago Cubs är den äldsta proffsklubben i USA, oavsett sport, och bildades 1870.
Den första sången anspelar så klart på den långa sviten utan mästartitel.
(Someday We'll Go) All the Way, performed by Eddie Vedder
Text & Music: Eddie Vedder (f. 1964)
(Från singeln. Label: Ten Club, 2008.)
Don't let anyone say that it's just a game
For I've seen other teams and it's never the same
When you're born in Chicago you're blessed and you're healed
The first time you walk into Wrigley Field
Our heroes wear pinstripes
Heroes in blue
Give us the chance to feel like heroes too
Forever we'll win and if we should lose
We know someday we'll go all the way
Yeah
Someday we'll go all the way
We are one with the Cubs
With the Cubs we're in love
Yeah, hold our head high as the underdogs
We are not fair-weather but foul-weather fans
We're like brothers in arms in the streets and the stands
There's magic in the ivy and the old scoreboard
The same one I stared at as a kid keeping score
In a world full of greed, I could never want more
Than someday we'll go all the way
Yeah
Someday we'll go all the way
Someday we'll go all the way
Yeah
Someday we'll go all the way
Someday we'll go all the way
And here's to the men and the legends we've known
Teaching us faith and giving us hope
United we stand and united we'll fall
Down to our knees the day we WIN it all
Ernie Banks said "Oh, let's play two"
Or did he mean 200 years
In the same ball park
Our diamond, our jewel
The home of our joy and our tears
Keeping traditions and wishes made new
A place where our grandfathers, fathers they grew
A spiritual feeling if I ever knew
And if you ain't been I am sorry for you
And when the day comes with that last winning run
And I'm crying and covered in beer
I'll look to the sky and know I was right
To think someday we'll go all the way
***
Ett annat stort Cubs-fan var countrysångaren Steve Goodman, mannen med den varma och mjuka rösten. 1981 spelade han in ett testamente som tog upp hans relation till basebollaget. Sången fick namnet "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request". Texten är väldigt fin och trots att den är lång så publicerar jag den i sin helhet (se nedan).
Tre år senare 1984 dog Steve Goodman i sviterna av sin leukemi, 36 år gammal. FUCK CANCER!!
Än idag spelas en annan av Goodmans sånger "Go Cubs Go" vid lagets hemmamatcher. Hans stora hit "City of New Orleans" kan avnjutas via länken.
A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request, performed by Steve Goodman
By the shore's of old Lake Michigan
Where the "hawk wind" blows so cold
An old Cub fan lay dying
In his midnight hour that tolled
Round his bed, his friends had all gathered
They knew his time was short
And on his head they put this bright blue cap
From his all-time favorite sport
He told them, "Its late and its getting dark in here"
And I know its time to go
But before I leave the line-up
Boys, there's just one thing 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
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'd 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
'Til 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 score cards ready,
and I'll read you my last request
He said, "Give me a double header 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 ground keepers clear my path
Have the umpires bark me out at every base
In all their holy wrath
Its a beautiful day for a funeral, Hey Ernie lets play two!
Somebody go get Jack Brickhouse 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 Sluggers baseball bats,
And toss my coffin in
Let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow
From the prevailing 30 mile an hour southwest wind
When my last remains go flying over the left-field wall
Will bid the bleacher bums ad?eu
And 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 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 season's tickets to watch the Angels now,
So its just what I'm going to do
He said, "but you the living, you're stuck here with the Cubs,
So its me that feels sorry for you!"
And he said, "Ahh Play, play that lonesome losers tune,
That's the one I like the best"
And he closed his eyes, and slipped away
What we got is the Dying Cub Fan's Last Request
And 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
***
En som drömde om att bli baseboll-proffs var den store bluesartisten Luther Allison. Han, som fick tilltalsnamnet "The Bruce Springsteen of the Blues" av tidningen Chicago Sun-Times. När han var elva år flyttade familjen till Chicago och Luthers bröder bildade så småningom en gospelgrupp. Men det var först efter att han blivit vän med Muddy Waters son som musiken fick en större plats i Luthers liv.
Sweet home Chicago, performed by Luther Allison (1939-1997). Text & music: Robert Johnson.
(From album Sweet home Chicago. Label: Charly, 1995.)
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