Yesterday I came across this story about a group of sports memorabilia dealers who’ve offered reclusive Cubs fan Steve Bartman $25,000 to show up at the National Sportscard Convention in Chicago and sign one — just one — autograph, on a photo depicting the infamous play where he arguably prevented Cubs left fielder Moises Alou from fielding a foul pop-up at the end of Game 6 of the 2003 NLCS that would have saved the Cubs a lot of trouble had Alou caught it.
I’m mainly interested in this story because, as the article says, Bartman’s name has become synonymous with Chicago’s Billy Goat Curse, which has me thinking about how trivial the Billy Goat Curse is compared to Cleveland’s own Curse of Chief Wahoo.
To review the bidding, the Billy Goat Curse
“all started with a smelly goat. In 1945, Cub fan Bill Sianis, owner of the Billy Goat Tavern, brought his goat Murphy to Game 4 of the World Series against the Detroit Tigers. Cubs owner P.K. Wrigley didn’t let Sianis’s pet stay, declaring that ‘the goat stinks.’ An angry Sianis reportedly said, ‘The Cubs ain’t gonna win no more. The Cubs will never win a World Series so long as the goat is not allowed in Wrigley Field.’ The Cubs lost the World Series, and haven’t made it back since.”
But it turns out that Sianis and his goat weren’t really treated badly at all. The Paper of Record has the story:
“[Sianis] was allowed to parade with the goat on the baseball field before the game started, with the goat wearing a sign stating ‘We Got Detroit’s Goat.’ Sianis and his goat watched the game from their seats until the seventh inning. It was then that security personnel told Sianis that he and his goat had to leave, due to complaints about the goat’s objectionable odor.”
Despite having had to endure the harrowing experience of only being allowed to stay at Wrigley with his goat for seven innings after receiving the free publicity of a pre-game parade around the Wrigley diamond, all in all, things turned out pretty well for Mr. Sianis. His Billy Goat Tavern has become a Chicago and national institution, and, along with Mr. Sianis himself, was the subject of numerous newspaper columns by the great Mike Royko, and the famous “Olympia Cafe” skits on Saturday Night Live. “Cheezborger, cheezborger, cheezborger . . . ”
By way of comparison, here’s a website containing a wealth of information about Ohio’s great Native American tribal chiefs. Like Chief Logan, a member of an Iroquois tribe that lived in Pennsylvania and Ohio. His Indian name was Tachnedorus, but was called Logan because of his friendship with a Quaker named James Logan.
The story goes that Logan “remained friendly with the whites until a group of settlers murdered his wife and family in 1774. Logan then sought revenge in a series of raids throughout the frontier. He also joined the Shawnee chief Cornstalk against the British in Lord Dunmore’s War. When the Indian forces were defeated at the Battle of Point Pleasant, Cornstalk knew that the Indians must make peace. A meeting was held at Chillicothe, which Logan refused to attend. Instead he sent a message that was read and later reprinted in newspapers throughout the colonies. Logan’s statement, which follows, has since been cited as one of the finest examples of Native American literature.
“I appeal to any white man to say if he ever entered Logan’s cabin hungry and he gave him not meat; if he ever came cold and naked he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites that my countrymen pointed as I passed and said, ‘Logan is a friend of the white man.’ I had even thought to have lived with you but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood and unprovoked, murdered all the relatives of Logan, not even sparing his wives and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature.
“This calls on me for revenge, I have sought it; I have killed many; I have grown glutted by my vengeance. For my country I rejoice at the beams of peace; but do not harbor any thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one.
“Cresap was later found innocent of the murders and Logan continued his raids on the frontier throughout the American Revolution. In 1780, Logan was murdered by another Indian (possibly his nephew) near Detroit. The once mighty Mingo leader died a bitter man due to his tragic personal losses and because he was unable to stop the whites from taking Indian lands.”
So, keeping in mind that Logan was one of at least a few Natives who had a similar experience, if Billy Sianis gets to curse one baseball team for 60+ years, how long will the curse of Logan and friends last? 50,000 years? 100,000 years? Isn’t The Drive, The Fumble, The Move, and everything else just a drop in the bucket? Why take the chance?
