Hope, the anchor

So I'm going to lay this out carefully, without mentioning specific possible outcomes, because I want to avoid any chance of cursing anybody.  But:

The Cubs beat the Brewers tonight; that means our magic number is 4.  We're playing the Brewers again tomorrow, of course, and then again on Thursday.  And Thursday is the game I'm going to.

Well, there it is.  I don't mind if it doesn't happen that way; I think the Cubs have their confidence back and will probably be okay in any case.  What matters is whether they win their division, not whether I'm there to see it.  But I keep thinking of A. Bartlett Giamatti's line from "The Green Fields of the Mind," one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I know: 

The aisles are jammed, the place is on its feet, the wrappers, the programs, the Coke cups and peanut shells, the doctrines of an afternoon; the anxieties, the things that have to be done tomorrow, the regrets about yesterday, the accumulation of a summer: all forgotten, while hope, the anchor, bites and takes hold where a moment before it seemed we would be swept out with the tide.

So now - well, now I guess we wait and see.