Tully: My cancer, my Cubs & life’s lovely distractions

I woke up before sunrise Thursday morning, brushed my teeth, kissed my wife and son, and slipped into my blue and red Chicago Cubs jersey. Then I headed Downtown to the Simon Cancer Center for another round of chemotherapy treatments.

I’ll be tired for a few days. At least that was the lesson from the first round of chemo, which followed my diagnosis of stomach cancer more than a month ago. And, sure, there will be some annoying side effects. But as I sat there at the cancer center Thursday, a tube pumping various drugs into my bloodstream and wonderful nurses doing all they could to keep my spirits high, I found in that Cubs jersey the comfort I had expected to find.

I’ve been a bit more introspective than usual of late, and as I sat in that jersey I thought about the more than 40 years of memories it represented: The Wrigley Field games my beloved and late Uncle Rob took me to in the 1970s; the players who loomed like superheroes in my adolescent mind; the two years I spent living in the baseball mecca that is Wrigleyville; the simple joy I’ve always found in sitting in the stands watching any baseball game; the first Cubs game I took my little boy to back in July; and the beautiful evening in August that my brother and I spent at Denver’s Coors Field, talking about life and our kids as we laughed and watched the Cubs beat the Rockies.

For a few days in early September, after receiving my diagnosis, I found myself struggling to imagine caring about things as trivial as baseball. It’s a game, I thought, and I just want to think about bigger things. But that feeling faded fast, particularly after I began to think about how tied the sport and the Cubs are to so many of my most treasured moments and memories. And while I spend most of my time these days thinking about my family, which is all that truly matters to me, I’ve come to appreciate more than ever the beautiful and unique importance of distractions.

Like everyone else, I have a lot of things that distract me in positive ways. I’m a junkie for music and reading, politics and the news, not to mention both good and bad TV. But few things have provided me with more and better distractions over the decades than baseball, particularly a Cubs team that is so fused to my family’s history that it’s almost in our DNA.

So while I wish my fall was playing out with a different storyline, it’s not and I’ve accepted that. This is a time to fight and to be thankful for so many things, not to complain (though I’m sure I’ll do my share of that). But as I sat there Thursday, a few days after the end of a Cubs regular season that was the best of the 42 or so I’ve followed, I thought how great it was that I get to spend the next few weeks of my cancer fight being distracted by the possibility that my favorite team could end a World Series drought that began just before William Howard Taft won the 1908 presidential election.

Reactions to Tully's cancer fight: 'Fly the W'

Win or lose, I’ll be happy to have the distraction. Win or lose, I’ll be happy to have the anxiety that comes with a game that means both so little and so much. Win or lose, I’ll be happy to have the chance to watch my son root for our team.

As this is election season, I have a theory about the Cubs and politics. It goes like this: With all the divisions in the country, with all the political anger, and with all of the anxiety about a presidential election that few seem to be enjoying, a Cubs World Series might be just what the doctor ordered. I’m biased, obviously, but I think the country needs its own distraction. What would be a better one than watching a team known far and wide as history’s ultimate “lovable losers” winning it all?

Election Day is just under a month away and it’s ugly out there. I don’t know about you, but I actually worry about my 5-year-old son seeing some of the negative campaign commercials flooding the airwaves; I don’t want him to think that it’s acceptable to speak about people the way the narrators in some of those ads talk about their targets. As the election approaches, I assume the nasty tenor of the debate, and the national level of stress, will only heighten.

I take politics seriously. And neither cancer nor the Cubs are going to rob me of my interest in election outcomes or my concern about the many issues facing Indiana and the country. I’ll still be writing about those elections and those issues, and annoying many of you by doing so, just as I have for so many years. It’s all too important to ignore.

But there’s something about sports and the teams that colored our youths that can distract us in wonderful ways, even from big things. I can’t imagine how many hours the young me spent watching the Cubs on WGN while growing up in Northwest Indiana, or how many times my heart was broken by another rough season, or how many conversations I’ve had about the team with my mom and other friends and family.

It’s funny. As serious as life has been of late, I’ve come to realize that trivial things can actually be some of the most important things. And if I get to spend a few nights in the coming weeks watching the Cubs with my little boy and my wife cuddled up next to me — well, then this October won’t be so bad.

Matthew Tully: Thank you, Officer Bradway, for all that you gave

Tully: Evan Bayh is in political race of his life

Tully: John Gregg was this debate’s clear winner

Thank you for reading. You can reach me at matthew.tully@indystar.com or on Twitter: @matthewltully.