As a native Chicagoan, I'm used to second-best and perpetual also-rans when it comes to sports. If you've lived your whole life in the Windy City, it comes with the territory.

Oh sure, the Bulls won six NBA titles and the Bears won Super Bowl XX, but to me, the ultimate picture of frustration and, what has been this town's sorest thumb, likely always will be the Chicago Cubs, who haven't seen the light of the World Series in, count 'em, 57 years.

Coinciding with that dubious distinction is the man who probably will forever best epitomize high hopes that continually faded to low finishes, that of Hall of Famer Ernie Banks. Baseball's eternal optimist is in his fifth decade of saying the Cubs would win it all each year, only to once again fall flat on their faces season after excruciating season.

I thought of Banks on Wednesday and couldn't help but think of the irony when it was announced Sterling Marlin would miss the remainder of the NASCAR season with a neck injury sustained in a crash in Sunday's Protection One 400 at Kansas Speedway.

Like Banks, Marlin is one of the nicest guys in his sport. Like Banks, Marlin has been chasing his dream of a championship seemingly forever, yet has fallen short each time.

Like Banks and the Cubs in 1969, when they fell apart in the final month of the season and yielded their spot in the World Series to the New York Mets, Marlin led the Winston Cup standings most of this season, but will be relegated to watching how the title ultimately plays out from the sidelines. Like Banks, Marlin came so close to tasting the champion's champagne, but will have to settle for a six-pack and no celebration.

Those unfortunate comparisons leave just one scenario left. Will Marlin, like Banks, finish his career never knowing what it's like to be champion, what it's like to be the best of the best for one season -- and forever be known as a nice guy but never a champion?

	Marlin won two races this season.

After all, no one really remembers if you led the standings for 25 consecutive weeks. All that's important is whether you finished first at the end of the season. And that's one thing Marlin will not be able to say when the final tally on his 2002 season is entered into the record books.

Adding more salt to the wound, Marlin, for all the outstanding driving, wins and consistency he showed this season, is in danger of not even finishing the season in the top-10. With seven races left, his current position of fifth, and the fact he won't drive again the rest of this season, Marlin faces the very ignominious fate of finishing perhaps as low as 15th, turning what had been an outstanding season into a mediocre campaign.

Equally as sad as how -- and the way -- he'll end up finishing this season is what this devastating turn of events will mean to Marlin on a personal level. Will being in the title hunt, only to see it quickly snatched away by an untimely crash, destroy the confidence he gained during those 25 weeks as the series' No. 1 driver?

What if, when next year dawns, Marlin is relegated to the kind of season that teammate Jimmy Spencer has had thus far this season?

In a sense, Marlin's injury and resulting fate are ironic. For it was for more than six months that he ran herd over the rest of the field. His consistency for much of that streak was to his competitors what he's feeling now: A pain in the neck.

As hard as his challengers tried, Marlin could not be topped. It was only when a curse of mechanical failures and other oddities began that he became fallible, ultimately yielding the top spot to Mark Martin -- who handed it over to Jimmie Johnson.

Marlin's departure will make an already tight points race tighter. With Marlin and his No. 40 Dodge out of the way, the guys with the best shot at the title -- Johnson, Martin, Jeff Gordon, Tony Stewart and Rusty Wallace -- will have to work even harder, knowing Marlin won't be around to serve as another potential foil. At the same time, that group has to be breathing a bit easier, knowing they won't be seeing that silver Dodge in their rearview mirrors.

I can't begin to imagine what Marlin is feeling now. I can only guess that, given his good-mannered nature, he's trying to accept the hand that's been dealt. I can almost hear him say, "Well, there ain't much we can do about it now, so we just have to go on from here."

The funny thing is, I've heard those words before. It was Banks talking at various times in his career, trying to find a ray of sunshine when clouds settled over Wrigley Field.

One has to wonder what it will take -- or if it will ever happen -- for Marlin to be mentioned, year after year, in the same breath as Gordon, Martin, Wallace and others.

Now, he'll have to start all over again next February in Daytona. What might have been in 2002 will revert to whether he can come back and pick up where he left off.

Banks used to be fond of saying "Let's play two," when it came time for the Cubs to have some much-needed optimism for tomorrow, next month or next season. For Marlin, it'll be more of a case of simply "Let's forget '02."

Jerry Bonkowski covers NASCAR for ESPN.com.