Quote:Why is that picture funny?

Quote:On the morning after, Garrett Mintz exhaled deeply and spoke about one of the worst things that had ever happened in his 11 years.

"The Marlins didn't win it; we lost it," he said tersely. "It was just too painful ... it got to the point that I just stopped watching."

This week, the Flossmoor boy got a little lesson about life: The best don't always win. There is no such thing as a lock. And when the going gets tough, the tough hit the remote.

All across the metropolitan area, baseball's youngest fans grappled with lessons learned from this improbable Chicago Cubs season. As a group, they are the fans most capable of throwing themselves headlong into a season like this.

Homework assignments will finally get completed and bedtimes will return to normal, but not until a new generation fully processes this latest heartache.

Despite the disappointing outcome, being immersed in a historic run for the pennant "offers the lesson of life," said Dr. Karen Pierce, a child psychiatrist at Children's Memorial Hospital, "that things don't always go your way, and, at the end of the day, you move on. It says, `Enjoy the ride ... but recognize that all rides end.'"

And no one is immune.

"I have an 11-year-old son who had probably his biggest disappointment in life thus far last night," said U.S. Sen. Peter Fitzgerald (R-Ill.), in Washington. "He was crying when he went to bed, and I guess that's what it means to grow up a Cubs fan."

Mike Royko, the late Tribune columnist, once observed: "I always believed that being a Cubs fan built strong character. It taught a person that if you try hard enough and long enough, you'll still lose. And that's the story of life."

Eric Samuels, 12, had been warned of this. His father and others had taken the Wilmette lad aside, explaining the facts of Cubs fan life circa 1969, 1984, 1989 and 1998.

"They told me, `It can be really bad, but you'll get over it.' But it was so much worse ... because of the way it happened," he said.

Blair Fischer of Chicago found herself "spacing out" during math class Thursday. "I kept thinking about ways they could have won," said Blair, 11, who first went to Wrigley Field in utero and was on hand for the season-ending game Wednesday night.

Teachers and parents acknowledged that, at least in junior high hallways, a melancholy air was pervasive Thursday.

But they also say that they expect the blues to be short-lived.

"Sure, it hurts today, but in no time at all, they'll be on to the next thing," said Linda Cosby, a mother of two die-hard fans, ages 12 and 16. "By tomorrow, they'll be talking about, `Who should the Cubs keep? Who should they trade? When does spring training start?'"

Even without a World Series berth, the postseason offers a smorgasbord of teachable moments, from enforcing the concept of good sportsmanship to recovering from an error.

"It really doesn't matter how it ends," Pierce said. She recalled Cubs players making errors, but not letting that get them down.

"[They] just make the next play. You can't believe how unbelievably helpful it is for kids to see that. That's the kind of lesson that lasts longer than just one season," she said.

Garrett Mintz, Eric Samuels and their contemporaries are at a critical juncture of fandom--old enough to appreciate the complexities of the game, but not yet jaded by labor disputes, salary demands and off-the-field exploits of star athletes.

Win or lose, being a pre-teen and surrendering your heart carries implications that will undoubtedly shape them in ways they don't even know.

"When you go through a series like this--with all its highs and lows--you become even more attached to the team, because you've had such an emotional experience with them," said David Gottlieb, a south suburban child psychologist. "You'll think about this particular ball club for years to come."

And even though the long-woebegone Cubs didn't win the pennant, they were still one of only four teams to make it that far in the playoffs--a powerful transformation to kids struggling with self-image.

"We all have ways of conceptualizing ourselves," said Dr. Tom Owley, a child psychiatrist at the University of Chicago. "If the Cubs can shed the `Lovable Losers' label, that can tell kids out there that they can too ... and change the way they think of themselves."

Owley, 49, understands the power of heroes. As a boy growing up in Aurora, he worshiped the 1969 Cubs. "Everything seems very sharp and clear ... because kids have less day-to-day worries," said the doctor, proudly adding that he can still recite lineups and statistics from 34 years ago.

Undoubtedly, Dusty Baker and company will leave that kind of indelible mark on a generation that had supposedly rejected the languid pace of America's pastime in favor of skateboards and computer games.

At the Mintz household, Cubs games were family affairs, with Garrett playing the optimist to his father's role of realist--a role the elder perfected over four decades of misery.

In Game 5, Garrett was unperturbed by Marlins pitcher Josh Beckett's shutout, while his father muttered, "I've invested way too much emotion in this team."

In Game 6, during the infamous 8th-inning meltdown, Dad left the den, going upstairs to watch "Nip/Tuck." It wasn't until the 7th inning of Game 7 that youth yielded to destiny.

"I just left. Why didn't [Cubs pitching coach] Larry Rothschild go out and talk with the pitchers? Why did Dusty leave Wood in so long? I couldn't take it."

But even from defeat, there is wisdom to be plucked.

Perspective is one of the best souvenirs of sports, said Gottlieb. "You still have your friends; you still have your family. Life doesn't always go your way, but it doesn't fall apart, either."

Eric Samuels reinforced that principle:

"I don't want to say `wait til next year,' because I don't feel like that yet," said the 7th grader.

"But, you know, the heart of the team is still there ..."

See, he's learning.