I've spent most of my life in the presence of troubled sports teams.

Growing up in the Chicago area, I was always aware of how long the Cubs had gone without

winning a World Series title.

It was less the point of pain and more a numb spot in the collective conscience of everyone

around me.

When I moved to Boston in the late 90s, I discovered a similar culture this time centered

around the Red Sox.

Again, here was a team that had spent decades waiting.

Year after year, hope would be manufactured and piled high in the cart of expectations,

only to have that cart dumped on its side at the end of each season.

Until 2004, that is.

That was the year things changed.

That was the year that brought the tower of hopelessness in doubt, the tower that took

86 years to construct, brick by brick, year after year, and brought it all crashing down.

The weight was over.

No, I don't plan to talk about baseball today, but I do think that the story of these teams

like the Cubs and the Red Sox have something valuable to teach us about how our minds work,

our ability to justify, to explain, to make sense of what seems so often to not make

any sense at all.

That's what I find fascinating.

Humans are so very good at finding reasons.

Lurking behind the Red Sox 86 year weight like a shadow, and still hovering over the

...