After watching ESPN’s documentary on the Steve Bartman saga, I was left feeling worse about the human condition of many Chicago Cubs fans more than I felt sorry for Bartman.

At least Bartman left the ordeal with some dignity intact.

The same can’t be said for the hordes of downtrodden Cubs devotees who still blame Bartman for their team’s fate in the 2003 playoff series against the Florida Marlins.

“Catching Hell” was an intriguing addition to the network’s mostly entertaining “30 for 30” film series. The documentary about Bartman’s train wreck with fate as he attempted to snag a pop-up that Cubs outfielder Moises Alou might have had a chance to catch gave viewers some uncomfortable reminders about the ugly side of human nature.

What struck me as most disturbing was not only how so many people associated with the game – including Alou himself – are still shameless and unapologetic for using Bartman as their unofficial punching bag, but the core motivator behind the depths of their venom.

It’s the purest form of discrimination. Bartman’s biggest sin isn’t that reached over and tried to catch the same baseball the Cubs outfielder was trying to track down. He has been crucified because he’s the prototypical target for bullying; he appears shy, reclusive, nerdy and awkward. Like many of us, I can relate.

There’s little doubt anyone in Bartman’s shoes would have been the subject of the fans’ ire, but let’s face it: Had Bartman been passable for Brad Pitt’s twin brother and had what the media considered a winning personality, he would have been invited to be the third man in the booth during the World Series alongside Joe Buck and Tim McCarver.

Had Bartman been an attractive female, she would have been offered to millions to pose in Playboy and had non-stop offers on the talk-show circuit and for movies.

Had Bartman publicly told Cubs fans to buzz off, or vowed to exercise his right to bear arms should one of the haters visit his residence, they might have left him alone sooner.

But instead, we got a deer-in-the-headlights dweeb who escaped from public view more quietly than he entered it. In pop culture, there’s nothing worse than being boring or unattractive, and for this Bartman was never forgiven.

Another bizarre aspect were some of the sources of the “Basically, it’s his own fault” sentiment. One media member labeled Bartman as “meek,” while another observed he “lacked charisma.” There are perhaps no worse candidates for this type of judgment than the double-trip-to-the-free-buffet line, personal-agenda driven majority who populate the mainstream media.

Alou was a disappointment, too. Not only did fail to offer an apology for screaming at Bartman when it happened, he showed no trace of empathy or sympathy for the Cubs fan. He said his biggest regret was that part of his own career’s legacy was tied to that particular play.

I’m of the camp that believes Alou probably wouldn’t have caught it, anyway. I’m also of the belief that it doesn’t matter. Even if you change that one event, it doesn’t mean the course of history would have changed. Nor does it guarantee the same outcome. We’ll just never know.

I think the gripe would have been slightly more justified had Bartman done something that unquestionably influenced the game. For instance, say the Cubs trailed by one run and had runners on first and second. Had he scooped up a fair ball down the left-field line, and perhaps prevented a speedy runner from scoring from first because of the ground-rule double, then at least he could be rightly accused of failing to respect the game.

Even so, this a moot point, because I’ve long suspected the Bartman saga was less about baseball and more about society’s insatiable appetite for feeding frenzies on the perceived weak.

Ironically, though, Bartman has shown he might stronger than all of his critics combined. You have to respect that, despite countless opportunities and the lure of six-figure paydays, he has kept his mouth and his wallet shut at every turn and has been an epic role model for showing others how to get on with their lives past adversity.

But I wouldn’t blame him for changing his mind. He’s already held out for a nearly a decade; I say, hang out another 10 years or so and see if the Cubs ever make the playoffs again. If they do, that’s when he heads straight to the presses with a book titled something like “Foul Play” and hits the talk-show circuit right before Chicago plays its first home game in the series. 

This might give some Cubs fans and media a needed lesson in karma. But the team surely would find its own special way to blow the series.