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Thursday, February 26, 2009
I Told You, I Don't Have a Good Headline, Just Write Anything
Labels: Jeff Samardzija, Kerry Wood, Mark DeRosa, Spring TrainingWednesday, February 25, 2009
Cubs 5 - Dodgers 3: A Win is a Win (Even When it Doesn't Count)
Labels: Dodgers, Jeff Samardzija, Spring Training, W
Enjoy while cheering on your favorite ND alum. Don't let the screaming of small children distract you
Great for K-San (though I don't think I'll be giving him his own tag just yet), but surely there will be plenty of concern over Jeff Samardzija and his 9.00 ERA after his first outing. In two innings of work, the hideous Domer gave up 3 hits, 2 runs, and 2 walks. This reinforces the ongoing theory Steve and I have been developing that Samardzija just isn't all that good yet. He's got incredible potential for sure, but I'm still on the fence about him as a regular late-inning reliever, much less a starter expected to win 8-12 games.
I got to listen to the WGN broadcast after I got off work, and let me tell you, I missed the hell out of Pat and Ron. Even without the atmosphere of a regular game, they were as engaging as ever. Hell, the morass of A and AA players made for even more entertaining antics. The game sounded a lot like one of those old N64 videogames that didn't have enough memory for player names. There was a lot of "High fly to right, that one's going to be caught ... by ... the right fielder." Half the time, they would shuffle papers and try to correctly identify the guy, but the "hell with it" factor increased as time went on. At one point, they thought a #11 was playing the outfield. I seriously doubt that it was Ivan DeJesus, but that would have been bitchin.
Welcome back, baseball. We missed you. Read More »»
Cactus League: The Best Sandlot Ball Ever

Today marks the official start of the Cactus League season, with our Cubs playing against the Dodgers, who I find to be unsurprisingly less hate-inspiring sans Manny Ramirez. I had a whole thing that I was going to do where I compared the team's performance in the Cactus League to their performance in the regular season. Bad correlation, maybe, but I'm stuck in thesis research mode, so I was trying to make the best of it. Well, it turns out that each year, at the end of the Cactus League season, someone wipes out the stats like Winston Smith in 1984. The Cactus League is for fun. Oceania is at war with Eurasia - Oceania has always been at war with Eurasia. (Anyone? ... cricket noises?)

"DONNY: We'll be near the In-and-Out Burger.
WALTER: Shut the fuck up, Donny. We'll, uh, brace the kid--he'll be a pushover. We'll get that fucking money, if he hasn't spent it already. Million fucking clams. And yes, we'll be near the, uh--some burgers, some beers, a few laughs. Our fucking troubles are over, Dude"
- Spanish beach volleyball player Raul Mesa won the 2005 European Championships in Moscow. Why the fuck are they playing beach volleyball in Moscow?
Monday, February 23, 2009
Virtual Insanity II: Electric Boogaloo
Labels: news
Now that the dust has settled, and the plans made, here are the random ticket day observations that I have to add:
Friday, February 20, 2009
Virtual Insanity
Labels: newsNote the 1 Excel Window open, indicating productivity at work
Happy Cubs Ticket Day!

Thursday, February 19, 2009
Bud "Don't Blame Me" Selig: A Timeline of Fuckuppery
Labels: Bud Selig, HistoryDo you ever think about the assumptions we operate under as baseball fans? Every day, we wake up, go to work, and (for some of us) write blog posts while under certain assumptions. We assume that players are overpaid, that the sport has priced itself out from under the asses of many traditional fans, and that there's no damn way you can assume that any of the MLB records from the past 15 years are untainted. We just go along with a wink and a nudge when talking about record-breaking feats that should inspire baseball partisans. Sammy and Big Mark blasting them out every day in '98 was magical at the time - now it's just a crappy plastic memory. You can't even say "my favorite player would never do this," because unimpeachable specimens of old-school hustle and true character have already cheated and lied and been caught. I'm looking at you, Viagra pitchman and former Cub Rafael Palmeiro. All the while, one man has been watching over the shit shack - former Brewers owner Bud Selig. He makes $18 million a year, a salary that makes Jason Marquis look like an unexpected bargain. But don't blame him for the steroid era, even though the Steroid Era and the Bud Selig Era run concurrently.
1992 - Comissioner Fay Vincent (the guy who wanted the Cubs to play West Coast games all year) pisses off the league so much that they kick him out. Enter Brewers president Allan Huber Selig. Or "Bud," as the desperate-for-a-nickname-other-than-"Dingleberry" interim comissioner would have you call him. The same year, a Canadian team wins the World Series. Coincidence, or portent of doom? Either way, evil 1992 warded off by emergence of Mr. Baseball, and the Selleck-based joy that followed.
1993 - ARG! Fucking CANADIANS AGAIN! Also, Atlanta catches on fire. But they're already used to that, right?
1994 - Hey! No baseball at all! Thanks, fuckface! Bang-up job there. At least it gave us all an opportunity to catch up on our Japanese while cheering on the Yomiuri Giants to Super Happy Terrific Crazy Time Victory Party.
1995 - Souvenir baseball day at Dodger Park turns into "huck fastballs at the umpire and cause your team to forefeit" day. Not Bud's fault, but a pretty hilarious fuck-up anyway.
1996 - Yankess win the series, and darkness washes across the land. This sets the stage for years of luxury tax goldbricking by the soulless fucks from the Bronx. Bud politely clears throat, then pisses pants.
1997 - The Brewers join the NL in a move orchestrated by Mr. Selig and owners. Division games just got 30 percent more annoying and 400 percent fatter!
1998 - Mr. Bud is finally made into a full comissioner. By coincidence, two formerly mediocre players - suddenly and magically built like He-Man action figures - smash one of the oldest records in baseball. During the same year. Bud practices his nonchalant whistling.
[2001-2003 - EIGHT Texas Rangers are using steroids, including Golden Boy. Anyone paying attention?]
2001 - Barry Bonds suddenly hits 73 home runs, 24 more than he will ever hit again. Nope, nothing suspicous here. Move along.
Oh, and also, Bud was charged with Racketeering for attempting to contract the Expos and Twins. The Twins, mind you, prove to be heads and shoulders better than the fucking Brewers.
2002 - The All-Star game ends in a crap-ass tie. It's the lamest All-Star game ever at that point in history. It is, however, soon exceeded in levels of shittiness by every lame over-marketed All-Star game that follws. "This time it counts!" My ass.
2003 - I don't seem to recall a 2003 baseball season. Do you?
2004 - Baseball finally agrees on a drug policy. Fans reply with a rousing "what the hell took you so long?"
2005 - Eggggghhhhhhhh. Fever Pitch. Eggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh.
2006 - Bud's beloved World Baseball Classic is stillborn into the world, beginning the great tradition of General Managers talking their star players out of suiting up for their countries. Somehow, the U.S. loses to Canada and fails to make the semis. What madness hath Bud wrought?

"Barry who? BAL-what? I can't hear you. Have I told you about the majesty and wonder of the World Baseball Classic? Here, have a WBC cap. That'll be $35."
2007 - Barry Bonds concludes wiping his ass on the legacy of the great players who came before him. Two douchebags fight over the accursed ball and eventually end up with nothing but an assload of laywer's fees. Bud wonders why his patented Home Run Dog and Pony Show isn't selling quite so well this time around.
2009 - Well, fuck. Golden Boy admits to roids, Yankees spending reaches $200 million, and every sensible fan thinks that the last 15 years of stats is bullshit. Thanks Bud. Here's your sack of money.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Spring Training = Hope, Questions
Labels: Alfonso Soriano, Aramis Ramirez, Carlos Zambrano, Derrek Lee, Geovany Soto, Kosuke Fukudome, Malibu Mike, Mark DeRosa, Preview, Reed Johnson, Rich Harden, Ryan Theriot
The Cubs have an impeccable sense of timing (aside from, you know, that one thing). They always seem to congregate for spring training at about the exact time I'm considering eating a shotgun if I have to listen to any more basketball talk on the radio. Even with hockey to help, the gap between the end of football season and the beginning of baseball season is interminable. It's what you'd call your basic Dark Night of My Soul. Not to be melodramatic or anything.
But the clouds have finally parted, after literally weeks without some combination of football and/or baseball. Sweet Lou, Fonzie, and Malibu Mike are all now in the desert, avoiding scorpions and working on hitting the shit out of some Cardinals pitching. And next Friday, a WAIW contingent will join them in the Land of Damn Hot, But Really, It's a Dry Heat So It's OK. Clearly, there is baseball within the grasp of our arthritic and frostbitten Midwestern fingers. This leads to questions abounding in the mind grapes. The following is what's been bouncing along my head when I should be doing other things:
- Why did Zambrano already give up on this look?

El Relampago Mustachio
It was seriously sweet, and it always makes me sad when someone gives up on facial hair. I'm thinking that a lot of whorish women kept thinking he was there to fix the cable, and it all got to be a bit of an inconvenience.
- How much can we expect from Rich Harden in 2009?
Year Ag Tm Lg W L G GS CG SHO GF SV IP H R ER HR BB SO HBP WP BFP IBB BK ERA *lgERA *ERA+ WHIP
+--------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+--+------+----+----+----+---+----+----+---+---+-----+---+---+-----+-----+----+-----+
2003 21 OAK AL 5 4 15 13 0 0 0 0 74.7 72 38 37 5 40 67 1 6 324 1 0 4.46 4.44 100 1.500
2004 22 OAK AL 11 7 31 31 0 0 0 0 189.7 171 90 84 16 81 167 3 4 803 6 1 3.99 4.54 114 1.329
2005 23 OAK AL 10 5 22 19 2 1 0 0 128.0 93 42 36 7 43 121 2 6 514 0 0 2.53 4.36 172 1.063
2006 24 OAK AL 4 0 9 9 0 0 0 0 46.7 31 22 22 5 26 49 1 0 191 0 0 4.24 4.43 104 1.221
2007 25 OAK AL 1 2 7 4 0 0 2 0 25.7 18 7 7 3 11 27 0 0 100 1 0 2.45 4.20 171 1.130
2008 26 TOT 10 2 25 25 0 0 0 0 148.0 96 38 34 11 61 181 3 3 595 2 0 2.07 4.25 206 1.061
OAK AL 5 1 13 13 0 0 0 0 77.0 57 21 20 5 31 92 1 1 311 1 0 2.34 4.05 173 1.143
CHC NL 5 1 12 12 0 0 0 0 71.0 39 17 14 6 30 89 2 2 284 1 0 1.77 4.47 252 0.972
+--------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+--+------+----+----+----+---+----+----+---+---+-----+---+---+-----+-----+----+-----+
6 Yr WL% .672 41 20 109 101 2 1 2 0 612.7 481 237 220 47 262 612 10 19 2527 10 1 3.23 4.40 136 1.213
+--------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+--+------+----+----+----+---+----+----+---+---+-----+---+---+-----+-----+----+-----+
162 Game Avg 13 6 35 32 0 0 0 0 198.3 155 76 71 15 84 198 3 6 818 3 0 3.23 4.40 136 1.213
Career High 11 7 31 31 2 1 2 0 189.7 171 90 84 16 81 181 3 6 803 6 1 2.07 4.54 206 1.061
I read somewhere recently that the Cubs should consider Harden a luxury item rather than a given. Looking at his career numbers, I think that's all we can expect. It's tempting to think of the guy as a #2 candidate because of his skill, but the stamina has never been there. 15 wins in 2009 would be a breakout season, and more than 150 innings pitched would make us ecstatic. Here's hoping he stops breaking and gets 18 wins, but I think that 12 is the best bet - and I might even be reaching there.
- What will the lineup look like on Opening Day?

Glasses by Oakley, beard by Jersey Shore
If Fukudome had lived up to the promise of last Opening Day, this would be so much easier to write. I want him to be good so badly, but his numbers dropped like a rock as the sample size increased. Here's hoping for a renaissance in 2009. As is, here's what I like.
1. Ryan Theriot
He can hit for average, but not much else. As long as he doesn't try to steal (22 SB/13 CS) too much, I like him to improve on last year's .387 OBP.
2. Mike Fontenot
I have no doubt that Malibu Mike can be an every day player on the Cubs. In a more frequent role last year, he got even better. I think it was the hair. He gets on base nearly two fifths of the time, which is a trait that Cubs players used to lack. He's also got surprising pop (9 hr) for someone who could probably still sleep in a racecar bed.
3. Derrek Lee
Yes, yes, we all remember DPLee of last year. But he's due for a bounceback, and I still don't see any other role for him than in the 3-hole.
4. Aramis Ramirez
Still a monster. While Soriano, Soto, and Bradley get all the press, he continues to be a rock in the cleanup spot. His hitting and power numbers fluctuate year to year, so you never quite know what's in store for the man. Here's hoping this year is a .300/30 hr year.
5. Milton Bradley
Bradley's left-handed bat here would give the Cubs an amazing middle of the order. No promises of the man's durability, but a career .280 hitter in this position has the potential to kill opposing pitching early. Look who I've got hitting around him, for crap's sake.
6. Alfonso Soriano
Hitting behind Ramirez and Bradley, and protected by Soto, makes sense to every single fucking person who isn't Alfonso Soriano. Why, why, why, why, would we consider batting him leadoff with this roster? He publicly said that he wants to stick to a slot in the order. Here's your slot, Fonzie. Enjoy it, relish it.
7. Geovany Soto
Geovany Soto batting seventh. Can you imagine the possibilites of this lineup? The NL Rookie of the Year, the best offensive catcher the Cubs have seen since Paul Bako (ha!), the man with facial hair that just won't quit. He's batting seventh. Crap, this is a ridiculously deep team. Imagine if we still ... had ... DeRosa (choking sob ... hit play on Joy Divison record).
8. Fuku/Reed "Stache" Johnson
Once again, I remind you that Fukudome vexes me. If he could legitimately hit even .275 (you know, like we paid him a crapload to do), he's be a terror hitting lefty at 8th. As it is, I can see some weak innings that start with Fuku and end with The Riot slapping a soft liner to left field. As for Reed, I'm all for him getting as much playing time as he can handle without injuring his trucker stache. The man's occasionally got durability problems, which is why we got him for free in the first place. Did you know he hit .303 last year for us? Dynamite!
9. Zambrano
I say we figure out how to have him bat for the pitcher in every game. He's clearly already tried to adopt a fake mustache disguise, so maybe Lou and Z are already on it. Read More »»
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
WAIW to be WAIW: Announcing the Inaugural Pub Crawl
Labels: news, WAIW Bar Crawl, Whoring OurselvesMonday, February 16, 2009
25 Things We Aren't Bitter About: 21-25
Labels: Essential Elements of Cubdom, WrigleyvilleIt came to our attention that certain elements of the blogoverse find us to be, shall we say, sarcastic and bitter. We have no idea why. Anyhow, the experience has inspired us to round up 25 of the things that give us the joy that only a bright Saturday afternoon game against the Cardinals can. These are in no particular order, and I suspect we'll likely end up leaving out some great elements of the Cubs universe. Feel free to correct us in the comments.So to the mysterious blog aggregator (or aggregatrix) who deemed us sarcastic and bitter - please consider the following declarations of joy and happiness. Oh, and fuck off.
21 - Pat and Ron
Earlier this year, while watching the Bears listening to Joe Buck date-rape my enjoyment of the game, Steve brought up the point that football would be a lot better with local color. The joys and sorrows of unabashed homers giving play-by-play is something about the Cubs that I'll always love. We love Santo for the non-sequitors and screaming. Others hate the play-by-play for exactly that. But a disinterested party? They can still suck - suck like Joe Morgan. Give me Pat's ugly sweaters and Ron's peg legs any day.
22 - Free stuff
What do bobbleheads, sponsored hats, and car flags have in common? They're all things I wouldn't ever buy on my own, but will show up early at the park and throw elbows to get. There's something about ballpark giveaways that really gets at the cheap hoarder in me. Isn't that right, Fukudome bobblehead on my desk?
He says yes. Repeatedly.
23 - The White Sox
I know what you're thinking. "The White Sox? FUCK the White Sox!" This is also what I'm thinking.
Isn't it great to have something to hate with all your might, like Emmanuel Goldstein in 1984? Everything that Sox fans love and value is wrong and terrible an un-American. And they think the same about us. The rivalry electrifies the city, and it frankly doesn't hurt that our side of town will always be the city's favorite. So thanks White Sox - because fuck you, White Sox.
24 - Salt & Pepper Diner
I swear, this will one day be it's own post. In a sea of over-priced game day "specials" and some of the most horrible bar food outside of Kuwait City, Salt & Pepper diner offers a kickass chef's specialty breakfast burrito (ask for extra jalapenos) and six dollar pitchers. You can go to Cubbie Bear and get a room temperature can of Miller Lite for a dollar less. Is there any doubt that it's a pre-game WAIW favorite?
25 - The Cubs fan community
In the end - and because we're in need of a melodramatic emotional conclusion - there's nothing about being a Cubs fan that beats getting to know other Cubs fans. Whether it's commenting over at COI, bullshitting with other fans in the 500 section, or debating the finer points of why Jason Marquis sucks with a bartender, the Cubs fan community is the most rewarding one in sports. You can always tell within five minutes of good Cubs conversation whether someone's a true blue fan, or they're just around to hitch on to the eventual reflected glory of The Year. Hell, we'll even take those bandwagon hoppers, because we're Cubs fans, and as a result, we're better people for it.
This has been fun. Thanks for showing up.
Read More »»
Friday, February 13, 2009
25 Things We're Not Bitter About: 16-20
Labels: Essential Elements of Cubdom, WrigleyvilleIt came to our attention last week that certain elements of the blogoverse find us to be, shall we say, sarcastic and bitter. We have no idea why. Anyhow, the experience has inspired us to round up 25 of the things that give us the joy that only a bright Saturday afternoon game against the Cardinals can. These are in no particular order, and I suspect we'll likely end up leaving out some great elements of the Cubs universe. Feel free to correct us in the comments.So to the mysterious blog aggregator (or aggregatrix) who deemed us sarcastic and bitter - please consider the following declarations of joy and happiness. Oh, and fuck off.
16 - Rubberband Man
The discovery of one of my favorite things ever began with frustration unknown to most men. As a former entertainment editor, it kills me to not know something related to pop culture. Well, Emily began hearing a song at Wrigley over the P.A. that just so happened to coincide with my last call beer runs. She loved it, but had no idea what it was - the audio quality on the Eisenhower-era P.A. speakers wasn't such that you could pick out specific lyrics. But even then, the song was intoxicating to her. This drama of not knowing went on for several games, to the point where she was considering e-mailing someone in the front office. She even called me from a Starbucks that was playing the song and held the phone up to the speaker in an ultimately futile attempt at identification. I felt like less of a man. Then we brought my brother to a game, who does this whole retarded Rain Man thing with music. He not only was able to identify it, but happened to have it on his iPod. Kids these days. This was the song:
Seriously, that is a bad-ass song. I think it may be Marmol's music, but I seem to recall hearing it later that year in times of Marmollessness. It was always in the 8th inning. Either way, if I hear one more reliever come in to "Enter Sandman," I'm going to put on mime makeup and nail my pinkie toe to a sheet of plywood. Emily, not prone to outburts of self-violence, likes to think that it's a favorite of the P.A. guy, and he sneaks it in there every time he can. I would dig that.
Regardless, "Rubberband Man" is bad ass. It's so bad ass, that it makes T.I.'s "Rubber Band Man" more badass through name association. It went from unknowable frustration into the realm of my top 10 favorite songs. Without hyperbole, if you don't like this song, you are literally worse than Hitler. That's right - a Hitler reference on the Internet. The gauntlet has been thrown. Now crack a beer and toast to the Spinners, you sons of bitches.
17- 1998
In 1998, everything was changing for me. I was newly in high school, and the catamaran of my youth was in the process of being battered to hell by the tropical storm Puberty. To top it off, even the Cubs were behaving differently. They were winning, and some kid named Kerry Wood was absolutely burning it up. There were ups and downs, and a deliciously terrifying conclusion to the playoff race. I still have fond memories of Sammy Sosa from this year, despite the man's repeated attempts to erase them from my memory. During the dark year that was 2004, I remember thinking "how the fuck are we choking this bad when we made the playoffs in 1998?" That team was by no means a powerhouse. Steve Trachsel was our #2. Gary Gaetti and Mickey Morandini were the leaders of the infield. Some dick named Brant Brown got enough playing time to almost ruin my young life. And yet they perservered, winning a playoff slot that at the time meant the world to me (Damn you, raised expectations!). I would talk about the previous day's game with literally anyone who would listen - including this tall dude named Steve who I hadn't met before.
And now you know ... the rest of the story.
18 - Jersey watching
One of the best things about being urban is the sheer volume and diversity of people to watch. And when I'm settled into my green plastic chair, I like to commence the watchin'. There are mild amusements, like the fanny packs, mullets, and douchebags wearing Devin Hester jerseys for some reason. But nothing, to me, beats the guy walking around in his Nomar Garciaparra, Mark Prior, or ... this thing

19 - Old Style with peanut shells
You can't eat peanuts and drink Old Style at the park without the twain meeting in your cup. This is cross contamination that I can really support. I suggest you do the same.
20 - Foam Claw guy
Is there a crappier job in the entirety of Cubdom than the guy who has to walk around trying to vend foam claws? While his compatriots in hotdogdom and beerdom are up to their shoulders in customers, they walk around looking sort of sad. And the job even neuters the best part of the job, which is the yelling:
Beer guy: "beAH, BEER heAH! Cold OLD STYLE - WHO wants an OLD STYLE?"
Hot dog: "HOT DOG! Red hots HERE"
Lemon ice: "Cool! LEMONCHILLLEMONICE!"
Foam claw: "Pardon, but would anyone care for ... ahem ... foam claw. What has happened to my life? I can't live anymore" (puts gun in mouth, can't quite bring self to pull trigger, cries and listens to the Cure in the shower). Pitying the foam claw guy is one of my favorite pastimes. Read More »»
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
25 Things We're Not Bitter About: 11-15
Labels: Essential Elements of Cubdom, WrigleyvilleIt came to our attention last week that certain elements of the blogoverse find us to be, shall we say, sarcastic and bitter. We have no idea why. Anyhow, the experience has inspired us to round up 25 of the things that give us the joy that only a bright Saturday afternoon game against the Cardinals can. These are in no particular order, and I suspect we'll likely end up leaving out some great elements of the Cubs universe. Feel free to correct us in the comments.So to the mysterious blog aggregator (or aggregatrix) who deemed us sarcastic and bitter - please consider the following declarations of joy and happiness. Oh, and fuck off.



25 Things We're Not Bitter About: 6-10
It came to our attention last week that certain elements of the blogoverse find us to be, shall we say, sarcastic and bitter. We have no idea why. Anyhow, the experience has inspired us to round up 25 of the things that give us the joy that only a bright Saturday afternoon game against the Cardinals can. These are in no particular order, and I suspect we'll likely end up leaving out some great elements of the Cubs universe. Feel free to correct us in the comments.So to the mysterious blog aggregator (or aggregatrix) who deemed us sarcastic and bitter - please consider the following declarations of joy and happiness. Oh, and fuck off.
6 - Go Cubs Go
We'll admit that it was pounded into the ground last year by bandwagon-jumping radio DJs and other such tool-ish elements of Cubs fandom. But I grew up listening to this song - and it just so happens that at the moment, it's not being enjoyed ironically. Post-college, Steve and I used to listen to the song while drinking our last beers before heading out to Wrigley. Back then, the chances were much slimmer that we'd hear the song again at the end of the game. If you hate this song, then you hate Steve Goodman. And if you hate Steve Goodman, then the terrorists have already won.
8 - Concerts
"are right behind you, Milton. Do not attempt to escape ..."Call me some lame, Sting-loving douche all you want, but I enjoyed the Police show at Wrigley. Sure, Sting had to go screw things up with decades of pretentious faux-Eastern dickishness, but you can't tell me that the first three Police albums weren't excellent. Or maybe you can - who knows. Either way, after the worst opening band in history (and I've seen a few), which just so happened to include Sting's son (Bite, Prick, Scratch?), the main act came onstage. I'm not going to lie, they may have lost a step or two. Sting is perhaps no longer what we would call cutting edge. But I enjoyed the hell out of myself. Part of it was the eight hours of barbecuing and drinking done beforehand, but most was the "Holy shit, I'm seeing a show at Wrigley Field!" factor.
9 - New Cubs
Every year, there's a couple new signings that raise eyebrows. In that time before they play a single game, the possibilities are limitless in my fertile imagination. Maybe Milton Bradley will win the NL batting title and not assault anyone. Maybe adding Maddux is all we need to take the Series in 2004. Maybe Gary Gaetti is the answer for our troubles at 3rd. With every new signing, there's that wonderful part before the player goes out and performs like, you know, a human. Savor that moment.
10 - Wrigley Tourists
Tourists are, by and large, obnoxious people in fanny packs who can kiss my ass. Yet at Wrigley, the wide-eyed masses - whether they be from Peoria, Nebraska, Texas, or California - solidify the sense of privilege I have to be able to go to the park with regularity during baseball season. Some of these people are on their one trip to the Friendly Confines that they'll ever go on, and it just so happens that Koyie Hill is behind the plate and Jason Marquis is throwing meatballs. But they don't care - they're just happy to be there. Start a conversation if you can - if you really want to know what you value most about being a Cubs fan, listen to what you say to people who have never been to Wrigley before. And at some point, drop the fact that you get to go to a couple dozen or so games a year - because what's living on the North Side without feeding off a little jealousy?
Monday, February 9, 2009
25 Things We Aren't Bitter About : 1-5
Labels: WrigleyvilleIt came to our attention last week that certain elements of the blogoverse find us to be, shall we say, sarcastic and bitter. We have no idea why. Anyhow, the experience has inspired us to round up 25 of the things that give us the joy that only a bright Saturday afternoon game against the Cardinals can. These are in no particular order, and I suspect we'll likely end up leaving out some great elements of the Cubs universe. Feel free to correct us in the comments.So to the mysterious blog aggregator (or aggregatrix) who deemed us sarcastic and bitter - please consider the following declarations of joy and happiness. Oh, and fuck off.
#1 - True city baseball
Some MLB teams, while named for metropoli like Tampa Bay, Kansas City, and Los Angeles, might as well change their names to, say, The Just-Outside-of-Kansas City Royals, or the St. Petersburg Rays. Even some of the downtown-located ballparks don't have much to offer due to the inherent crappiness of their surroundings. I'm looking at you, Chase Park in Arizona.The Cubs? Red Line it to Addison, and enjoy the greatest city in the world while you wait for the gates to open.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome ... John Mayer!" NOOOOOOOOO.... oh God. It was just a nightmare.#2 - Night games
Before you scream at me, I'd like to say that I'm in staunchly in favor of day baseball. It's one of the greatest parts of being a Cubs fan. But it's the limiting of night games that makes them such a great break from the usual. For a few hours, everything about Wrigley is different - the crowd, the atmosphere, the views. In spite of a lifetime as a Cubs fan, I didn't see my first night game until I moved back to Chicago in 2006. It was the final night game of the year, against the not-yet-as-hated Milwaukee Brewers. The Cubs, as you recall, sucked ass throughout that year - Dusty's final one ruining our pitchers. They spent most of the game playing catch up - as the Goldschlager wore off, the tension increased. Finally, our Boys in Blue won it on Henry Blanco's 2-out RBI single. I went insane for the win - which pulled us up to 65-94. It didn't matter. I'd been in love with Wrigley during the long, hot days, and now I found an entirely new set of things to love during that cool Chicago night. It was like loving a woman with all your heart, and then she gets a new haircut. Or you find out she likes comic books and whiskey. I swoon.
#3 - The scoreboard
People could spend entire lifetimes praising the scoreboard - I'm sure some boring bastards even have. It sweeps over the park like a benevolent green overlord, and has a certain romantic charm. If you don't think about how it must smell crammed with scorekeepers on a July afternoon. Everyone's got their favorite part about the scoreboard, but I'll wager mine is different than most people's. I love the Wrigley scoreboard because I don't have to watch stupid-ass races every half inning. If I had to listen to some gel-haired jackass exhorting me to root for spark plug 1,2, or 3 to round the electronic base path first (brought to you by Napa Auto Parts), I'd committ seppuku with a souvenir collectable spoon. God bless Wrigley's scoreboard - it's a fine thing when an inanimate object knows to shut the fuck up.
#4 - Old people fans are adorable
No, that Stan Hack jersey isn't a throwback item from Cubs.com. It's the original, and he (or she) has been wearing it to the same seat every year since people still called years "aught-seven" without irony. Wrigley is blessed with a great number of fans and ushers who have been warming the Friendly Confines since bleacher seats were the cheap option to see a game.
I've met a few of these people, and they're the kind of warm, friendly senior citizen you rarely encounter outside of a Werther's Original commerical. Where others are enjoying Matlock and Andy Williams, they're soaking up the sun and hating the shit out of the Cardinals.They were Cubs fans before it was hip. For that, I'll buy them a beer.
#5 - Hot dogs
Wrigley Field is not known for its food. I believe it's Aramark food service, which is the Arby's of catering. Hell, there are probably a half-dozen better places to get a hot dog within a block of the park, speaking from a purely culinary standpoint. And yet when you go through the gates, all rules of time, space, and the nature of reality are off. Somehow, in that narrow window of time, the foil-wrapped conglomeration of steamed bun and warm dog is the greatest thing in the history of eating. At least, once you give it mustard, pile on the day-glo relish, and give it a good ten seconds under the onion hopper. Let me set a scene for you:
It's Labor Day 2008, Astros at Cubs. For once, I'd splurged on some bleacher tickets for Steve, my brother, my girlfriend and me. My girlfriend was, at the time, mired in the depths of ill-advised vegetarianism brought on by the bad influence of a book provided her by my vegan sister. I'd just gone to get beers and hot dogs, and commenced with the eatification soon after returning to right field. In my peripherals, in between Hunter Pence-directed taunts, I could sense conflicting emotions. Suddenly, she turned, said "that smells ... really .. good" (Shatner-like in its cadence) and asked for a bite. Two weeks later, she was back on the NY Strip Steaks, and the Wrigley dog had ascended to that near-mystical place of vegetarian conversion. For my money, this was the greatest Cubs victory of my lifetime. Read More »»
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