75 Years Without A World Series Title Is A Unique Heartache In Cleveland

75 years have come and gone, with Cleveland fans wondering when the longest World Series drought in Major League Baseball will finally end.

Watching the postseason when you’re on the outside looking in is agonizing, especially when the ties run deeper than just the division.

August of this year marked four years since former Cleveland Indians catcher Hal Naragon passed away. I attended the last baseball game he went to in Cleveland during his final weeks on Earth with his family, which is also mine, as he was my great uncle.

I had been thinking about him with the postseason in full swing. What’s the significance of any of this, anyway? The Guardians were ousted by the Twins for the AL Central crown this year of course, but my late uncle had finished his playing career as a Senator-turned-Twin — and went on to be a bullpen coach for the Twins and the Detroit Tigers — including the 1968 World Series winning team.

My husband and I just framed an original wire photo from 1956 of Naragon and Bob Lemon for our basement. Both were also on the 1954 team primed to bring home another piece of hardware for the city of Cleveland. But, as we all well know, 1948 still stands as the last World Championship for the franchise.

And just like that, it's been four years since he's been gone, and 75 years since this town and this team has brought home the Commisioner’s Trophy.

Yes, of course, we thank the team on the other side of Gateway Plaza for pulling off the ultimate feat in 2016 — but with that, it also brings back the pain of what happened one late night in November between the corner of Carnegie and Ontario with Joe Buck on the call.

“Here’s the 0-1. This is going to be a tough play. Bryant. The Cubs — win the World Series! Bryant makes the play! It’s over. And the Cubs have finally won it all! 8-7 in ten.”

And just like that, the Cubs had snapped their 108-year drought. And just like that, another year was added to ours.

I've been reflecting on this season for a while, and it’s been so hard to encapsulate the emotion of going from a division-winning, run it back, kind of team to a mini-teardown at the trade deadline. You start to come to grips with the team that has had multiple chances and been on the doorstep of winning it all — but that reality has never come to fruition.

But, here we are. We made it to October, and the Guardians are not playing. The year has been one to think about, mainly because it feels like we had started a contention window and it now may have slightly shifted; and because our manager, who was at the helm for 11 years, has tipped his cap to the crowd.

Cleveland Indians second baseman Jason Kipnis (22) is congratulated by manager Terry Francona after scoring in the seventh inning against the Chicago White Sox at Progressive Field / © David Richard-USA TODAY Sports

My now-husband and I started dating in 2013, which means our relationship has perfectly aligned with the tenure of Terry Francona. We’ve been riding this iteration of Cleveland baseball together for some time, which feels both maddening and poetic at the same time.

But, selfishly, it reminds me of all the past time, and the elusiveness of winning the World Series. How has it been 75 years?

We have a very vivid memory as we left the ballpark in 2013 following the AL Wild Card game as the hometown team took on the Rays. Francona had mustered just enough out of the club to get us into that one-game playoff, but they ultimately fell short.

When we were walking back to our car in a throng of melancholy fans, a young kid and his father were walking in front of us. The boy was elated to have just gotten a 2014 schedule and was asking his downtrodden dad about which games they could attend next season.

He was so full of excitement and optimism; perfectly playing the right cards for a town that lives and dies by the mantra, "There's always next year." There was something so innocent and uplifting in that moment.

I remember a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. This new era of baseball had just begun, and the fans were excited to have Skip right this ship. But, 11 seasons later, you're starting to wonder when that day will come.

Tito was destined to be the guy to bring it home and was beloved within the clubhouse, organization, and this city. Plus, he was coming back and bringing some of that Red Sox Championship pedigree with him.

This town was ready to forget the things the mainstream sports channels reminded us of each time the playoffs rolled around.

And just as Tito discussed his health and his desire to keep himself out of the way of what’s best for the players, your mind wanders to what’s next. When will it be the Guardians' turn?

But maybe what's worse for the ware is as the seasons continue to tick by, some of the people you'd thought would be with you to celebrate the day they hoisted the trophy over their heads on the field are no longer here.

1995 is long gone with ‘97 just on its heels, and the sun has all but set on 2016.

Cleveland Indians relief pitcher Andrew Miller hands the ball to manager Terry Francona in the 7th inning in game seven of the 2016 World Series against the Chicago Cubs at Progressive Field.  / © Ken Blaze-USA TODAY Sports

I was at the Guardians' final home game of the season. This isn't too much of an oddity for me as in years past the team donning the home jersey may have some playoff aspirations still abound in the final weeks.

What was odd about that night was that it was the final home game Tito would manage for the Cleveland Guardians. You’ve seen the videos. You’ve read the articles. There’s not much more for me to elaborate on all that was on that September night.

What Francona had called, "the worst kept secret in baseball," taking a look back at that run holds meaning, but also a heaviness you can’t explain to anyone outside of the city limits.

While players and reporters, both former and current, shared their admiration for Tito, I knew I'd be one among many. Numbers like how many career games he managed or his winning percentage are figures you'd see grace many article pages except this one.

Before Tito, the team was coming off a pretty abysmal season, and Manny Acta's short stint came to a screeching halt at the end of 2012 before Francona was named as the next manager of the Cleveland Indians. It was an excitement I hadn't seen in a while with a buzz around town about this team.

Tito knew Cleveland, and a homecoming of sorts was in order and just the type of juice this club and this town needed. The rest, as they say, is history and his story has been written, and will one day find itself for all to see in the Hall of Fame once he’s inducted. But as he’d be the first to admit, our history has a hole we all wish could be repaired.

The way baseball makes me think about my own mortality is probably not healthy for someone my age, but each season adds another year to my life, and another without a World Series title. And now that Tito has stepped aside, and now that the 75-year mark is here, it’s enough to send you down a hole of aching nostalgia that I’ve yet to find the bottom of when it comes to Cleveland sports, and particularly, this team.

It’s enough to dig out baseballs preserved in a quart-sized Ziploc bag in your parents' basement that commemorates the teams of the ‘90s. It’s enough to read about an era you weren’t alive for but have family ties to. And, it’s enough to have to keep the optimism after a lackluster season and prepare to come back with a new manager steering the ship, because what else are we going to do?

Until then, we’ll continue to wait for the day the 27th out to mean the ending of the drought, not the prolonging of one. When we’ll finally get to hear the call we’ve all been waiting for when a new history gets written for this club, and when we can put the “years since” counter to rest.

And, maybe even get our iteration of the final call we’ve yearned for — and not have to remember the one that most recently haunts us. For young fans to leave the gates, next year’s schedule clutched in hand, excited for the following season to start and asking their moms and dads when they can come back.

Except this time, everyone in the crowd is smiling, and the mood is joyous. While there may not be a dry eye around, it will be for a different reason than the 75 years of tears previously brought, because the Guardians have finally won it all.