Welcome all to Better Luck Next Time—a place where seven friends decided to take their group chat to a public domain to air out thoughts in a long-form writing space, in addition to the quick-hitting sighs of despair as we watch our favorite teams.
Myself being one of them, I was born into a family of boys where sports were everything, under a Chicago meathead who I eventually turned into—my father. Of all places to be born, I was into one right next to the greatest city in the U.S. All good things until the path that was chosen for me—and undoubtedly by me—was one of grave misfortune. The only bullet I did dodge was my dad growing up in a White Sox family and revolting to be a Cubs fan, which, before 2016, was a brave road to pave for him and his family.
Fast forward to my life 26 years later, and I keep up extensively with the Chicago sports landscape. Growing up, I recited the ’06 O-line like the back of my hand, shared who I thought Felix Pie would project to be for the Cubs when he was in AAA, and got pissed off whenever Kevin Gregg would come into the game. I was Kirk Hinrich’s number one fan and sold myself on every single Bears GM, HC, and QB.
The most painful part of it all, which has led to a life of dysfunction: how could a man who has carved out a solid life for himself and his future family become so entranced with Chicago sports that it could feel decapitating when a bunch of millionaires lose a game to another group of millionaires? WHY, GOD, WHY?!
Well, there’s no point in fighting it anymore, but one thing that I have noticed in self-reflection is this: this is a place of therapy, so my close-to-perfect life can be talked out with friends and not kept in. I am not expecting anything to come from this, and if not one person other than my mom reads what I have to write, then I’ll be fine, as this is strictly for self-improvement and my own mental health.
But what I have come to realize is I am not alone. This will be a community for fans of all shapes and sizes—the optimistic, the pessimistic, the analytical fan, the meatball, and everything in between. So welcome to our little page. My name is Wydo.