While my internet wanderings yesterday revealed that some folks in the blogosphere had begun moving on to 2008 in the wake of Thursday's disappointing performance, the majority of what I saw from the non-Mariotti world was defiance in the face of elimination. Certainly this is a bit of experience talking, as past Cub teams have had their moments on the Diamondbacks' side of the ledger, only to see that seemingly sure thing slip through their fingers. It has, in fact, a certain degree of cosmic justice to it, as Nate Silver pointed out in a recent BP Unfiltered post - the ultimate reversal of fortune.

The most recent analogy is the Red Sox experience in 2004, and while those events may not make such an outcome more likely in reality, they certainly lend an air of possibility to today's proceedings, the idea that the damned may, indeed, at any moment, be unknowingly on the brink of redemption. That perhaps they must not only confront and defeat their demons, but do so in a way that brings to mind for the newly vanquished visions of the horrors that have previously befallen those victims turned victors. It's an appealing notion, made even more so by its distinct lack of likelihood - doing the impossible is always more fun than simply meeting expectations.

Which leaves us with today, where the only weapon at our disposal is a speck of hope multiplied by the millions who possess it - on its own not nearly enough, but put them all together, and who knows? Who knows, indeed?

No one.

And so they play.

And so we pray.

Pray that all of our tiny parts may come together to form the whole that ends these years on decades of fruitless yearning. Are the chances good? No. But what's the fun in laying down and dying, when one can go out swinging and trying?