Why So Emotional Over Cubs' World Series Berth? You Explained

(CBS) In a column he wrote Monday, 670 The Score's Matt Spiegel wrote of being at Wrigley Field on Saturday night as the Cubs clinched a trip to the World Series:

"As the clock crept toward a World Series berth, so many thought of their deceased relatives. At a time like that, those who've passed have some immortality, courtesy of a baseball team. It's perhaps the greatest comfort sports can offer."

That was along a topic of discussion on the Spiegiel and Goff Show on Monday morning. What was it that made some Cubs fans get so emotional over the team's trip to the World Series?

Many of you responded to our text line and email account, explaining what it meant. Here are some of your best responses, edited for clarity's sake:

--- "I kept it together at the bar, but I broke down for about two minutes in the back of the cab with my girl. I had a lot of feelings and emotions thinking about my dad and grandfather. Then I was good. I needed that quick crash of emotions. Felt good."

--- "The tears were for my dad, who was born in 1910, and what great people this core group is character wise. They're easy to love."

--- "I got teary-eyed when they showed that old lady in the front row. My grandma was at a Cubs World Series game in 1945. She passed away a few years ago. She was a lifelong Cubs fan and is the reason we're all Cubs fans. I couldn't help myself."

--- "I'm an emotionless, PTSD-affected vet who hasn't cried in years. I sobbed like a baby." -- Hank

--- "I grew up with cookies in the oven at great grandma's and the Cubs on the radio or TV. Grandpa took me to the Cubs games. And most importantly, I believe because of the number of games, the Cubs always seemed to be in the background of my fondest memories growing up. It was just a part of our family."  -- BeeardedMeatball

--- "I had a tear in my eye (it never actually rolled down my cheek, though) because my daughter said she was happy for me after suffering for 45 years. All the memories of throwing things at the TV, learning colorful language from my dad and my first sip of Old Style with my gramps came flooding back. It was joyous and sad all at the same instant. Never before have I experienced such opposite emotions simultaneously. My daughter won't have to live with the years of futility, she will have to face the opposite, the ultimate fall of the king. That might be worse."

--- "Hey fellas, my best friend died two weeks before the season opened. And I can barely watch a game without bawling. This Cubs World Series run is a hell of a lot more than about baseball."

--- "Yesterday morning, I was drinking coffee and reading recaps when tears started and a weight was lifted. It is what it is. Fly the W."

--- "I tear up -- it's the pure joy of seein the Cubs do well and make great plays. My grandma put the Cubs in me -- Sandberg was her all-time favorite because he was a Swede. I took her to a game when she was 86, sat eight rows up behind home plate. We watched Big Z pitch. We recorded the game and watched later. Her face almost filled the TV screen during theseventh-inning fan cam. Grandma died age 94 in January 2016. She's up there watching -- I believe it. She would love Rizzo and Kris and Lester and Ross and Hendricks ... Just great stuff gives some people wet eyes."

--- "I realize that this team has nothing to do with the past, but that past makes this that much sweeter. I cried, I hugged my best friend, I called my dad. There's something to be said for sticking it out and getting rewarded."

--- "A buddy and I had a weird emotional feeling when Ross got up and looked like he was going to shed a tear. So we both nervously picked up our beers and drank."

--- "My dad and I put a W flag on my grandmother's grave yesterday morning. She was a huge a Cubs fan, and it was the first time I saw my dad cry since she died. I'm teary-eyed now thinking about it."

--- "I called my brother, and I cried. We used to take the bus from Beverly -- two hours each way -- and then walked from Western to Clark. It's been a very long wait."

--- "I lost my dad two weeks ago to brain cancer. We were invested in the Cubs all year and knew it was special. We were texting during games constantly from 2,000 miles away until the end. I flew back and watched him pass. I'm going through the grieving process while celebrating the Cubs, been weeping constantly throughout the playoffs. I can't explain the emotion." -- Jeremy

--- "I thought of one gentleman on Saturday night -- 'Mr. C.' He would come into the pharmacy I worked at and quietly stand in line, his Cubbie blue speaking for him and that's how we connected with each other in that South Side pharmacy. The epilepsy he suffered with in his life  left him with a mild stutter in his 60s. It would never appear when he was his normal shy, kind, reserved self, just when he and I would have our impassioned baseball talks.

One of my off days, I had a message from my tech, saying a patient was looking for me and would like to give me tickets because he had some but couldn't make the game. It could have been any number of the upper-middle class people with their connections who casually bragged about the number of games they attend and decided to throw me a bone for a day game against a last-place team. I never even returned the call.

Upon a return to work, I realized it was 'Mr. C' who had made the offer. 'Mr. C' came in later and told me he had gotten them from a friend at work and wanted to give them to me because I was the 'only one who would appreciate them.' Had I known who was leaving those tickets for me, I truly would've appreciated them.

'Mr. C' was found dead by his daughter on her weekly visits to him a couple of years ago. She called our pharmacy to tell us. We would've never known otherwise. There was no service, no obituary. 'Mr. C' is all but forgotten to most people on this earth. So I thought of him Saturday, a kind, good man who loved baseball. I would've loved to have talked with him about this team and how it developed.

And I would've loved to have seen that giant smile on his face knowing his Cubbies made it into the World Series." -- pharmacist jul