Two of the most maligned Cubs propel us over the Mets. The universe is a whore.
Last night proved, yet again, that I am terrible at predicting outcomes mid-game. When we loaded the bases, up 2-1 in the 8th, I remember thinking "damn, we got it made. Surely we get at least a sac fly run out of this." After DeRosa struck out and Soto fell back 0-2, proceeding to pop out, I re-aligned, thinking "damn, Cedeno is up." Visions of writing "we just couldn't get that one big hit" on this blog were dancing in my head.
Ronny Cedeno gives the Cubs some breathing room, shortly after I declare "Crap! Two outs and Cedeno is up - I'm going to get a beer."
Cedeno's hit (on a 1-2 count!) up the middle was huge, and of course I thought defensive replacement Felix Pie was going to be the final out of the bottom 8th.
I am an idiot.
I accept this title for myself, because it meant the Cubs delivered a win over a National League contender and a team that every red-blooded Cub fan hates. Even better, they did it in the fashion of one knocking a man down, and then stepping on his neck. It was back and forth the entire game with both Zambrano and Maine shutting down batters most of the game. Sucks for Aaron Heilman, who was one pitch away from keeping his team in it, but that's what you get for playing in filthy, godless New York.
2008 Zambrano: Less screaming, more winning. Still lots of screaming, though.
I really, really enjoy this roll that we're currently on. Last night felt a lot like a playoff game. The only thing that would make me feel better is if we were 18 games up in the division. Guess we'll have to wait until July for that. Today, Ted Lilly goes for us (1:20 game time) and if there's a better time for him pull himself out of his early season tailspin, I can't imagine when it would be.
2-4 with a run, and still one smooth criminal
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