HOPE is important. An irrational sense of belief too, mixed in with a dash of blind optimism. It is what sustains the sports fan year after year. Success and silverware are the preserve of the very few which means there must be something else that drives millions around the world to continue to devotedly follow their chosen team in the knowledge that there is as much chance of them winning something as there is Lord Lucan one day emerging from the depths of Loch Ness sitting on Shergar’s back.

Part of it is habit. Part of it is social. The rest is a pathological sense of denial, fuelled by an illogical obsession that one day it will all prove worthwhile, the vast expense, the many miles travelled, the hours, days and years of unrelenting misery. It is a life sentence, the only decision taken before puberty that can never be altered. Change your hairstyle, change your job, change your clothes, change your partner, change your nationality, even change your gender. But not your sports team. You have made your choice and now you are stuck with it, through bad and worse, thin and thinner.

There can be no guarantee of happiness, only of persistent disappointment and frustration. And yet. And yet. Once in a while something happens that allows the sports fan to turn around and say, “See! I told you they would do it,” having never really truly believed it themselves.

A party began in Chicago in the early hours of this morning and it may go on for quite some time to come. The Cubs, baseball’s lovable losers, have finally won the World Series for the first time since 1908. For those who have followed their progress with a deepening sigh and a weakening spirit over the years, the release must have been quite something, almost befuddling. You know where you are with losing. When the rare victories come along it can confuse the senses like being bashed over the head with an outsized frying pan. Watch the many videos filmed this morning of fans congregated outside the Cubs’ Wrigley Park or in bars all around Chicago for further proof. Most don’t know what to do with themselves when their heroes deliver the final out to bring about the end of a 108-year pain.

Hibs fans will surely concur. Most, if being honest, probably thought they would never see their team win the Scottish Cup. And yet they would turn out season after season in the off-chance that maybe this would finally be their year. Lo and behold, 2016, the year of the celebrity death, has also delivered the demise of the biggest jinx in Scottish football.

These victories for Hibs and the Cubs will be cherished not just by their supporters but by every other down-on-their-luck sports fan, too. If they can do it, they will reason, then maybe it will be our turn next. Chances are it won’t be, but that flicker alone will be enough to sustain those who favour hope over expectation, optimism over defeatism and belief over reality. Sometimes that is all it takes.