My dream became a nightmare.

Two separate nightmares, actually.

Apparently, three-run eighth-inning leads to clinch a World Series berth are less safe than driving on the interstate with your eyes closed.

The Chicago Cubs and Boston Red Sox both were two innings away from winning the pennant and meeting in what would have been the most talked about World Series in history.

It was not meant to be.

Steve Bartman and clutch New York Yankee hitting made sure of that.

Bartman, a Chicago fan, prevented Cub left fielder Moises Alou from recording the second out of the eighth inning in Game 6 of the National League Championship Series.

Alou had his leap for the ball timed perfectly and would have made the grab. When I saw that play and Alou’s tirade afterward, I thought I was going to throw up.

I’ve been watching Cub games on WGN for 13 years, and to have this defining run through the playoffs spoiled by a “fan,” made me very queasy.

I knew it was all over. I prayed that I was wrong, but I wasn’t.

The Cubs, as I expected, completely collapsed. Mark Prior, Chicago’s young pitching stud, lost his invincibility, and Alex Gonzalez, who had the best fielding percentage among National League shortstops, committed his first error in two months.

Before I knew it, the score went from 3-0 Cubs to 8-3 Marlins. The decisive Game 7 was nothing more than a formality after that.

Pedro Martinez, Boston’s best pitcher, had a 3-run lead disappear in Game 7 of the American League Championship Series.

Yankee after Yankee came through until catcher Jorge Posada, down to his last strike, fought off a tough pitch from Martinez and drove in the tying two runs with a bloop-double.

The whole world knew, then, that the Red Sox had about as much of a chance to win that game as Anna Kournikova does of winning a tennis tournament.

Now, we have the Marlins and Yankees in the World Series.

Just imagine.

We could be watching the Cubs and Red Sox, two teams with massive loyal fan bases that come back year after year hoping that this will be the year the team wins it all.

There’s always next year, right? You bet.

But nothing will change. No matter how good these teams are, they can never win. And why?

As Beni Garbor said in The Mummy (1999) as Dr. Allen Chamberlain reads the inscription on the Book of the Dead: “It’s a curse.”

The curse of the billy goat on the Cubs and the curse of the Bambino on the Red Sox will continue to haunt these long-suffering franchises.

The Red Sox, two years after winning the 1918 World Series, sold Babe Ruth, the biggest icon in baseball lore, to the rival New York Yankees for $120,000. They have not won the World Series since. Nor will they ever.

In 1945, the Cubbies were playing the Detroit Tigers in the World Series. Tavern owner Billy Sianis brought his billy goat, as he had done the whole season, to Game 4, but was denied entrance by the Cubs. He left the park, but not before placing a curse on the team: that the Cubs would never again play the World Series in Wrigley Field. There it is: the Cubs’ only chance.

Tear down Wrigley.

Wait, don’t do that.

Which leaves me to wonder why I cheer for a team that can never make it back to the World Series, let alone win it.

Then, I realize the Cubs are a part of me, more so than any physical feature or my sarcasm.

And I must continue to cheer. Because one day, the curse could be broken, and I must be watching, hopefully in person, and celebrating in that most glorious moment.

Cubs. World Series. Same sentence.

One can dream.