You know they're not going to lose 162 consecutive games.

In the lore of America’s pastime, when the air was thick with both the hope of spring and the despair of defeat, there rose the booming, joyful voice of Harry Caray, bard of the ballpark. With wit that cut through sorrow and with faith that lifted even the most weary hearts, he declared: “You know they’re not going to lose 162 consecutive games.” To some, this was mere humor spoken in the midst of a long and bitter season. But to those who listened with the ear of the spirit, it was a teaching of endurance, of hope, and of the stubborn resilience of the human soul.

For in baseball, as in life, failure is constant. No team, no matter how mighty, escapes defeat. Losses pile upon one another, darkening the spirit, tempting the faithful to abandon their cause. Yet Caray, with laughter ringing in his words, reminded the world of a simple truth: no one loses all the time. Despair may seem unending, but even the weakest will find victory eventually, even the darkest season has its days of light. His words are both jest and prophecy: losing cannot endure forever, for the wheel of fortune always turns.

The ancients knew this lesson well. Consider Job, whose suffering was so immense that friends and family thought him cursed beyond redemption. Yet though he lost wealth, children, and health, he did not lose all. In time, restoration came, for even the longest season of loss cannot remain unbroken. Just as a baseball team will not lose every game of the year, so too no soul will be denied every blessing. There is always one day, one triumph, one moment of redemption that interrupts despair.

Caray’s words also carry with them a teaching of perspective. In the midst of defeat, the mind magnifies loss until it feels eternal. But Caray breaks the illusion: yes, the team may lose today, and tomorrow, and even many days thereafter, but they cannot lose them all. Reality itself prevents such hopelessness. To remember this is to restore balance, to laugh at despair, and to trust in the inevitability of renewal.

We see this truth reflected in the story of the Chicago Cubs, whom Caray himself served as announcer. For decades, they bore the weight of “the curse,” their failures mounting year after year. Fans wept, laughed bitterly, and held their breath through heartbreak. Yet Caray’s words proved prophetic, for in 2016, long after his passing, the Cubs stood victorious as champions. They did not lose 162 straight; they did not lose forever. Their moment of triumph came, as triumph always does to those who endure.

The lesson for us, then, is clear: never allow despair to harden into certainty. When life hands you failure upon failure, remember Caray’s voice: you will not lose them all. Stand firm, keep faith, endure the season. Victory may not come today, nor tomorrow, but it will come. Even a single win among many defeats is proof that hope is alive, and from such small sparks great fires may be kindled.

So let this teaching be remembered: failure is never absolute, despair is never eternal. Even in your hardest season, when defeat seems endless, know that life will grant you at least one victory to keep you alive, to remind you that the wheel turns, and to inspire you to rise again. Laugh, as Harry Caray laughed, even in the face of loss, for laughter itself is a kind of triumph, and faith in tomorrow is the greatest victory of all.