Cubs Win, Suck Me Back In

Awwwwwwwwwkkkkkkkkwwwwwwwaaaaaaard!

Much like every other win after a losing streak this season, the Cubs have drawn me back with a win against a mediocre Pirates team. It is like being beaten by your spouse for a week straight, but then they come home with a new necklace and I can tell this time, they really mean that they are sorry. Besides, I need to be more careful around the stairs anyway. So once again, they have won my forgiveness and sent me off on my "hot-streak-before-the-All-Star-break-then-we-get-Aramis-back-and-we-will-play-like-we-are-supposed-to" idiotic fantasy sequences. The joys of being a Cubs fan.

X marks the Fox. I hate myself.

As for the actual game, the Cubs looked pretty solid, with Harden having one of his best outings of the season, lasting a solid 7 innings, striking out 9. Keep in mind, 7 innings from Harden is the equivalent of Christopher Reeve climbing a flight of stairs (hey - after our jokes about MJ and the Billy Mays, we are going to only mock already deceased celebrities). While he did give up 9 hits, any time he found himself in a jam, he was able to pitch out of it. John found himself doubting the abilities of Marmol and Gregg, though I reminded him to have a little faith (this conversation quickly escalated to a discussion containing swear words, autism, and Hardy Boys). Fortunately, the bullpen did not let us down, not allowing a hit or a walk for the final 2 innings.

Classic Sunday Funday aftermath

Looking at the box score of the game, it still isn't pretty. While the pitching was solid, the offense was a joke. We got out-hit, especially when it matters, going 1-9 with runners in scoring position. We will never be able to compete against a balanced team (luckily, the NL Central doesn't contain these), so I still have limited faith in what this team will do. I believe the first picture shown in this post shows how not on the same page everyone is. Hopefully they will hit their stride, but the time to say that the season is still early has passed. 2 weeks until the All-Star break, and we really need a solid run before the time off.

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Weekend Recap: Ten Predictions for the Rest of the Year

"Can we just, you know, leave?"

Steve and I were both scheduled to be away from Our Fair City over the weekend. He was flying down to Austin via a really cheap-ass plane ticket, while I was driving a pickup truck full of Simpsons DVDs and my girlfriend down to the Appalachian part of Tennessee. On Friday, the sheer signal strength of WGN had me connected with the team through the end of Friday's game. I heard Soto's jack, Marshall's icy coolness, and what sounded like choking noises from Carlos Marmol. 5-4 Cubs, well done.

Unfortunately, the post game show soon succumbed to signal interference, with callers offering such gems as "I don'tASHGJJJZZ Jim HendryHASGKJJJHZZZZZHHHMilton BradlJAGHHHZZZ"

So there it was - the cord was cut between myself and the team. I don't pay for some fancy-pants MLB package, so that was it for Cubs over the weekend, disregarding score-checking on my phone. And apparently, the Cubs did just as badly without WAIW around as they do when we're there. Worse, even.

To wit:

- We lose the away series to the hated WhiteTrash, after a rain-shortened split at Wrigley.
- Our $40M pitcher, Ryan Dempster, keeps painfully demonstrating the definition of "contract year."
- Milton Bradley is a pretty, pretty princess
- DEROSA TO THE FUCKING CARDINALS
- Cubs fans who attended Sunday's game had to (1) see perhaps the team's worst performance of the year and (2) listen to people with six teeth tell the same Gay Pride Parade jokes they've been telling since 1997.

Talk me back from the ledge, after the jump.



I won't be recapping each game, as I have more respect for you than to tell you I didn't see a game, and then proceed to describe that game. Instead, I'd like you to consider that even nestled in the loving embrace of the South, hearing dispatches of my Boys in Blue playing like crap was extremely painful.

I think something has finally broken in my brain, and I'm getting the creeping numbness that in other scenarios suggets a cardiac event. But it can always get better - and much, much, worse - with the Cubs. So instead of wallowing, I'm going to come up with 10 ways this season could get worse.

1. Given the limited budget he has to work with at the trade deadline, Jim Hendry desperately makes the best deal that presents itself. For Mark Prior.

2. Milton Bradley says "I have to go now. My planet needs me." Note: Poochie Milton died on the way back to his home planet.

3. Larry Rothschild gets fed up as Aaron Heilman walks in another run, and injuries both of them by running up to the mound and spearing the fat-faced reliever.

4. Carlos Marmol kills a Make A Wish kid sitting in the front row with a pitch that Pat Hughes describes as "just outside, 3-1."

5. Aramis Ramirez comes back, fails to hit .700, rabidly expectant fans boo him.

6. Jumbotron, with KissCam(TM).

7. Local media, bored as shit with the current team, decides to fabricate a Curse of Captain Morgan to blame for 2009.

8. The night before the All-Star Game, Lou Piniella says he's going out for a pack of cigarettes. He never comes back, leaving us with abandonment issues and the resultant therapist bills.

9. Kosuke somehow manages a negative batting average by the end of August. Still good OBP, though.

10. With Mark DeRosa now a Cardinal, the female Cubs fan base is decimated by mass suicide, leaving a bunch of sad guys in upside-down visors drinking by themselves at the Cubby Bear.

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WAIW Cubs Blog Roundtable #14: So Long, Suckass!

We at WAIW are lucky enough to be acquainted with the operators of a bunch of excellent Cubs blogs. Every Friday throughout the 2009 season, we're going to bring as many of them as we can together to share their thoughts on being Cubs fans. This week - players advised to not let the door hit them on the ass:

This past weekend saw Woody and DeRo come back to a standing ovation. Clearly, they left town on good terms, which is rare. We at WAIW have our own ongoing series called "So Long, Suckass!" What player were you the happiest to see leave the Friendly Confines?


Cubbiejulie

LaTroy Hawkins. I have never hated anyone more.

- Cubbiejulie, from A League of Her Own, isn't joking about hating him the most - and she once met Hitler at a book signing.

More smell you laters, after the jump:



Wrigleyville

While we never root for failure or wish misfortune upon any Cub (or any baseball player, really), I wasn't all that sad to see Michael Barrett leave. It seemed like it was time to go. Todd Hundley was of course a disappointment. Mostly, I like to see catchers leave, apparently.

- Watch your back, Soto. Or Wrigleyville23 will be on you like Gregg on suck.

Chip Wesley

I really don't think I've been happier to see a Cub depart more than when Neifi Perez was traded to the Tigers back in 2006. It's a joyous memory of what was a giant turd sandwich of a season.

- Chip Wesley, head bartender at Thunder Matt's Saloon, is still formulating a sandwich diagnosis for the current season. Urinal cake sandwich, maybe?

Jen

Hmmm…so many choices, so little love. With all the buzz around Sammy lately, it's hard to not remember the cringeworthy events that led up to his bag-packing (and stereo-smashing). And with the Cubs being on both the giving and receiving end of blown saves this week, the memory of waving bye-bye to LaTroy Hawkins conjures up a sigh of relief. But when it comes to unloaded dead weight - a dickish, disappointing dead weight - there was nothing better than telling Todd Hundley we'll catch him on the "flip" side. There's not a single Cubs fan (except for maybe the nuns) that didn’t return the gesture and fly the bird right back at him when he exited stage left.

- Jen, from Cub Blogging, proves that there's no LaTroy LoVe among the ladies.

Ginger Russ

Thinking over my response this morning over a Bacon-wrapped Frosted Chocolate Fudge Pop Tart and Iced Doppio (the Official Breakfast of College of Idiots) two individual douchebags came to mind. Both were at one time heroes for the Cubs, and both managed to wear out their welcome and now have their jersey's used as "after-sex-cleanup-rags" by Cub fans around the nation.

The first is pretty obvious, and I'm sure I won't be the only one here that said a big, "don't let the door hit 'ya where the good Lord split 'ya" on his way out of Chicago. Once the hero of Chicago, we loved Sosa's antics while he was hitting 20 homers a month. The hop, the double-kiss, the sprint out to right field, we relished in all of it. Then he started to fade. In 2003 Sosa "accidently" picked up the wrong bat. Sure, we, tried to believe him, but we couldn't help but notice that the beginning of PED testing was also the time that Sosa's bat started to slow down.

By the end of 2004, Sosa was a shell of his former self. On the final day of the season, Sosa left the park during the first inning. After the game, a player(s) took a bat to Sosa's boom box, and figuratively and metaphorically destroyed the last of Slammin' Sammy in Chicago. A few weeks ago, Sosa announced his retirement (much to the amazement of everyone who thought he was already retired) and a few days later his name was leaked as one of the 104 players to test positive for PED's in Chicago. No one was surprised of course, except the most retarded man in baseball, Dusty Baker.

My second choice was actually one of my favorite players, and I'm sure many other Cub fans. The Crosstown Classic finally reached it's pinnacle of what every fan in Chicago really wanted on a sunny day in May in 2006 when Michael Barrett punched Head Douchebag, A.J. Pierzynski, and started an all out Battle Royale. Sure, it was a sucker punch, but in that moment, Barrett epitomized everything that Cub fans had wanted to do the Sox, especially in the wake of the South Siders winning a ring the previous year and STILL only worrying about what our Cubs were doing.

It was another fight that Barrett was involved in though, that not only forced him out of the good grace and respect of his team, but also off the team. On June 2nd, 2007, Zambrano took his anger out on something more than just a Gatorade cooler, he took it out on his inept catcher. The dugout skirmish lead to six stitches for Barrett, and after a confrontation with Rich Hill two weeks later, a one-way ticket to the land where ex-Cubs go to die, San Diego. After Barrett was gone, the Cubs started to turn it around and went on to win the division. Coincidence?

So in true COI tradition, we (I) give a big GFY (can you make this type larger and bolder than the rest) to my two favorite former-Cub doucebags, Sammy Sosa and Michael Barrett.

- Ginger Russ is a busy man. In addition to COI, he's also representing gingers over at The Andy White Fan Club and Thunder Matt's Saloon.

Angry Mike

The guy I was elated to see leave town (recent memory) is Jacque (Jock) Jones. Holy hell what a completely useless player. Although there is no evidence, and none will probably ever surface since no one cares enough to unearth it, I am conviced he used PEDs. Of course by the time he joined the Cubs they had strict testing in place for PEDs and he finally got a big contract so he had no incentive to continue using and get caught. If you look through his numbers on baseballreference.com you might be inclined to believe he was a contributor during 2006. People who actually watch the games will explain that much like his buddy Juan Pierre, Jock had a nack for racking up numbers when it didn't matter...which was most of the 2006 season.

That brings me to his shit eatting grin. I mean really, I had never seen a player with the capability to slap on a big smile after completely letting his team down. Jock had this perfected and is probably the main reason I was glad to see him get traded. Why the hell should he be so happy when he was making me miserable. Probably had something to do with the fat contract Hendry laid in his lap.

The good news? In another 10 years or so I will likely forget the guy was ever a Cub. Or will I....

- Angry Mike is about to get a lot angrier, as the College of Idiots is accredited in Arizona, where the heat kills everything but lizards and the elderly.

Ted Lilly Fan Club

Ronnie Woo- Woo.

We remember when Woo-Woo played for the Cubs and even then it was apparent to us that he had a higher calling. We said to ourselves, "Hey Self, That Woo-Woo kid is pretty sharp out there, but what if he was in the stands screaming a combination of some noun, plus his name, at an absurdly high voice volume, while wearing his crisp, white, uniform... wouldn't that be something!?!"

Sure enough, Ronny took our advice and roams the aisles at Wrigley instead of playing in the field. He delivers joy to us all.

- Ted WOO Lilly WOO Fan WOO Cub WOO

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Tigers 6 - Cubs 5: Back to Losing

"Have you ever, like, just looked at a bat, man? It's so crazy. I need a Hostess Fruit Pie."

Allow me to pose a question - what was the last time that you were confident in the Cubs? It's getting to the point that I'm almost ready to write off a third trip to the playoffs, and it's not even halfway through the season. Despite playing in a division with all the fight of an armless pacifist, I'm not sure the Cubs are the class of the Central, big-ass payroll or not.



"Next time, thank me by not going 0-3, dick."

Ted Lilly was bad yesterday, but you know what? Ted Lilly has been the only consistent player on this team, and he can damn well have a bad start if he wants. It's not like they didn't choke away another close game with runners on base. Jake Fox looked good, but then Cubs.com had to ruin it for me with that ridiculous "a triple away from the cycle" bullshit. Hell, I know how to make tacos, so I'm really only a medical degree away from being Dr. Taco. Hooray for me, you bastards! Also, I'm always happy with Kosuke does well.

We're going up against Jose Contreras today, and I'm still not confident we're going to do anything but leave a shitload of runners shaking their heads at second base. I'm afraid that by the time Aramis Ramirez comes back, the fans are going to be singing the score of "Jesus Christ Superstar" instead of "Go Cubs Go."

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John: Blogger, Beard Enthusiast, ANGEL OF DEATH

Geez, the one day I make a joke about Michael Jackson.

Seriously, I don't remember ever making another.

Tomorrow: A joke about Joe Morgan.

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Tigers 5 - Cubs 3: Seriously, You Guys?

And as the Tigers and Cubs look on in terror, the people of Detroit discover a large cache of mortars. The end times are upon Motor City.

Last night was the baseball fan's equivalent of those rednecks you see on COPS that repeatedly crack their head on the pavement on purpose, either out of misguided guilt or out of being high as fuck on PCP. I'm almost sorry that I already used this video yesterday.

At some point, you have to wonder when exactly the Cubs will at least begin to obey the law of averages. Their performance with runners in scoring position over the last 3 games suggests that a fight against the immutable laws of time, space, and probability is the only thing the Cubs can win. They couldn't find a base hit with runners on 2nd and 3rd if the Cubs lineup was Michael Jackson and the base hit were Macaulay Culkin covered in Crisco.

More horrible things that you should never say at a dinner party, after the jump.

"You know, there's something I used to be able to do with this. Oh yeah - pitch it effectively. Oh well ..."

Remember when one win over the White Sox and 3 over the Indians meant that the Cubs were, improbably enough, "back"? That hasn't gone so well for us. The Braves and the Tigers aren't exactly the Dodgers and Red Sox, but you wouldn't know that from watching us go all pants-crappy with the chance to take the lead.

You know, it's not all that confusing. You just can't hit shit at the moment. Boom, mystery solved. Go back to the dugout.

Ted Lilly, a scorned Cubs Nation turns it lowly eyes toward thee. You're going to have to hit a homer and pitch a shutout 9. I wouldn't trust the rest of the team to do much more than say shit like "well, you just gotta make those hits," and "we aren't executing, but we'll get there," and "it's still the first half of the season," and "blippity blorp boop, I have nothing fucking useful to say."

"Why can't you just give me an umpire application now? Lissen, I gotta get out of here! Fucking Hoffpaur couldn't hit a red headed kid with a lisp if he were an alcoholic stepfather."

And yes, I'll be listening to the game on my lunch break, because I'm an idiot. And yes, just one win in this pathetic series will indeed make me feel better for the weekend. So do it.

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Kevin Greggodammit!: A Short, 4 Act Play

Indulge me. And please, watch until at least the 1:14 mark in Act IV.

Act I



Zambrano: I have pitched a good game, because yo soy un hombre gigantico! Here, fellow teammates, feast off of the riches of my start. Great job, up-and-down reliever Carlos Marmol! Now we just need someone to close out this glorious win.

Act II



Gregg: Allow me! These glasses allow me to see into the future.

...

The future keeps calling me a dork and hurting my feelings. Now for a fastball across the plate.

Act III




Gregg: Well, fartsicles

Act IV

Narrator: And yea, the Cubs fans were displeased, and commenced to freak the fuck out.

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Unlike The Who, The Cubs Get Gregg'd Again

Even in Detroit, Gregg somehow gets to keep his job

Having Kevin Gregg on the mound in a close game is like keeping your ex-girlfriend's number programmed in your cell phone. In theory, its not a bad idea, but more times than less, you are going to drunkenly text a desperate message and look like a pathetic piece of shit that can't throw a damn ball to close a damn game to save his damn life. Wait. That analogy made sense at one point. In conclusion, Gregg sucks like your ex-girlfriend.

Picture taken September 22, 1977, or 9 months and 1 day prior to Gregg's birthday. A happier time, to be sure.

The game itself was up and down. John was only able to catch the first half (due to a fancypants dinner), and I was only able to watch the second half (on account of The Hangover - "Is this the actual Caesar's Palace?"). This provides quite a disjointed view of the game - particularly of one individual. Got a message from John while in the movie about how much a pile of crap Hoffpauir is. However, the half of the game I saw displayed how kick-ass he is, with a two-run go-ahead homer. I elected not to interrupt his dinner with a "FACE! Micah came through!" message; however, my respect of his privacy was thrown out the window when Gregg Gregg'd it up, and I sent him quite the f-word variation tirade on the quality of Kevin Gregg. Respect for nice dinners has its bounds, after all.

You can't feel too bad about losing to a team with the Power of Selleck (POS)

And so it went, another close loss because the bullpen can't close the game. I was willing to write-off the Atlanta loss because of Lou resting everyone, but this is one we should have won. I don't know why these guys feel the need to get me excited that they had turned a corner, only to revert to the Cubs of yester-week. Oh well, such is the life we chose to lead. Win tonight, and all will be forgotten, at least for that moment.

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Braves 2 - Cubs 0: Your Late Recap

Umm, guys? You're doing it wrong.

A full analysis, after the jump.



10 hits, 0 runs, 12 left on base.

What the FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK?

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Cubs Media Monday: Do They Still Play The Blues In Chicago?

Over the past couple years, the tradition of playing “Go, Cubs, Go” has become prevalent, and I never leave the ballpark until the song is over (or they lose, obviously). Steve Goodman is a favorite here at WAIW, and, although “Go, Cubs, Go” is the number one most played song on my iPod (123 times, the last time, evidently, at 12:41 a.m. on June 7; must’ve been a fun night), there is another great song that I think speaks to the true Cubs fan – “A Dying Cubs Fan’s Last Request.”

If you haven’t seen this video before, it is really a great one, shot from a rooftop across on Waveland. Goodman died in 1984, at only 36 years old. He had been diagnosed with leukemia when he was only 22 (earning him the nickname “Cool Hand Leuk”). Despite being a lifelong Cubs fan, he was never able to see them in the post-season. He died just two weeks before their 1984 appearance. Goodman had been scheduled to sing the Star-Spangled Banned before the playoffs; Jimmy Buffett filled in and dedicated the song to Goodman, thus bringing the name of the blog full-circle.

Hope you enjoy the video. Goodman was not only a great Cubs fan, but a wonderful musician. For some more information, see his webpage here.

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Weekend Recap: Sweeeeeeeeeeeep

... and the Community Center was again saved from greedy developers.

When Woody and DeRo came into the game at different times on Friday, the Wrigley faithful let them know they were appreciated with heartfelt standing ovations. Then they cheered as the Cubs spent the entire weekend beating them. And damn, it was sweet. It may have been against the AL's version of the Washington Nationals, and they might have needed four extra innings to do it, but we'll take it.

Each game, after the jump.



Friday: Cubs 8 - Indians 7 (10 inn)

"That is the worst German potato salad I've ever had on the mound."

Both of your courageous WAIW editors ended up at the park that day, despite biblical-style rain and wind that convinced me it was going to be the second rainout in a week. Since I attended with guests from out of town, my bigger worry was getting them in the stadium for an overpriced beer and a walk around the park before they officially called it. Good thing I'm terrible at predicting shit.

When the game started, I was soon convinced it may as well not have. Rich Harden looked bad - Jason Marquis in August bad. Before I had even befouled a single trough with my angry, indignant urine, we were down 7-0. I went back to cheering for a total rainout ... you know, like screaming "do-over," except official. Yep, it was truly a terrible, terrible game. All was lost.

"Celebrate prematurely! We have clearly won this game!"

Then Reed Johnson hit a homer. That's cute - something for the kids to talk about. Then Derrek Lee hit a homer. Nice to see him swinging well. 7-2. Some bright spots. Okay, bases loaded, 8th inning. But it's Blanco up. I don't see how HOLYSHITBLANCO! 7-4. HOLYSHITTHATGUYDROPPEDIT. 7-5. HOLYSHITSORIIIIAANNOOOOOOOO 7-6. Aaaand Theriot lines out. Well now, this is exciting.

So now comes the scene I've envisioned since buying these tickets in February. Kerry Wood back at Wrigley nursing a 1-run lead in the bottom of the 9th. You can't tell me he doesn't feel just a tad emotional about it. Derrek Lee, on the other hand is a killing machine. 7-7. Now we've officially erased Rich Harden's start. Thanks, Woody. You're not half-bad.

(Weird side-note here: No one left while the Cubs were getting ass-hammered 7-0, but suddenly we go into extras and a bunch of motherfuckers are like "welllll, I gotta beat the traffic." GFY, you dumb bastards. Go back to Libertyville in shame.)

For once, the Cubs managed to win an extra-inning game in the 10th, on a Theriot ground-out that took a little-league hop and ended up being the winning 2-out RBI. Wrigley exploded. I high-fived strangers so much, it was like I was bragging that I didn't have OCD. What a damn win.

Saturday: Cubs 6 - Indians 5 (13 inn)

"SQUEEEEEEE. A spider! Killitkillitkillit!"

Yet another bowel-cramper of a game. Our man Ted was on the mound for this one, and I believe that Steve and I adequately summed up our feelings about the man during our guest-spot on the Ted Lilly Fan Club. Thanks to TLFC for allowing us the opportunity - it was like getting an honorary doctorate, but without the uncomfortable seating and the torturous recitation of name after name that I couldn't give less of a shit about.

Anyhow, Ted ended up with the dreaded ND (no decision, not the crappy college football team) after Marmol WALKED IN THE DAMN TYING RUN IN THE 7TH. It's getting ridiculous when I expect Marmol to walk a couple of guys each appearance, and am pleasantly surprised when he does not. You know what's been missing around here lately, (Filthy), that's what.

Kosuke Fukudome, Freelance Gynecologist. Coming soon to a theater near you.

Fukudome snapped out of his slump with a nice 4-5 day. I would like to point out that even in a slump, Fuku's OBP still hovers around .400. D.Lee also continued to hit, prompting Steve to scream "I BOUGHT THAT GUY'S JERSEY" at passerby on the street.

The game went deep into extras, with David Patton giving up what looked like the death blow to Luis Valbuena with two outs in the top of the 13th. The Indians had the lead, and the Cubs looked demoralized. Then Kerry Wood came in to save the 1-run lead.

"I did that on purpose. Go Cubs go."

Yeah, you probably know how that turned out. Poor bastard.

Sunday: Cubs 6 - Indians 2 (Mercifully, just 9 inn)

Pew pew pew!

People call Wrigley a dump, and I concede that the concrete is crumbling and that you have to pee in one long metal bucket. Yet it's a relative term - it may not be the billion-dollar whorehouse that is Yankee stadium, but neither is it the CTA Pink Line, where I listened to much of this game on my AM radio.

While you might not be able to get your pan-fried grouper sandwich with chipotle aioli (you pussy) at the Friendly Confines, neither do you have to make a mental calculation on whether the homeless man in the pink sun hat drinking King Cobra out of a Poland Spring water bottle is adjusting his matching plaid shirt/pants ensemble or whether he's attempting to masturbate. At mid-day. On a Sunday afternoon. So take that "tear it down" bullshit and cram it up your ass. You have shitty idea of what "disgusting place to take in a baseball game" actually means.

Oh, and the Cubs won.

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WAIW Round Table #13: Curse Ye, White Sox!

Yes, the 13th Roundtable is the White Sox one. I totally planned that.

We at WAIW are lucky enough to be acquainted with the operators of a bunch of excellent Cubs blogs. Every Friday throughout the 2009 season, we're going to bring as many of them as we can together to share their thoughts on being Cubs fans. This week - we're going all high school on the 2009 Chicago Cubs:

Though it's assumed that every Cubs fan hates the White Sox with a fiery passion, generalizing the rivalry tends to take away the nuances that add so much to the annual North Side/South Side fistfight starter that is the Cubs/Sox pair of series. Everyone has different levels of hate, and a few experiences to illustrate it. Here is the definitive WAIW one, all the way from 2003. College of Idiots is way ahead of us on this one, so head over there to enjoy some good ones as well. Enjoy, and let us know how you feel. How exactly do you feel about the White Sox and their fans? Can you illustrate it with an amusing, drunken, possibly false anecdote? Best story wins the undying respect of WAIW, and if you're ever up for a game this summer, a pre-game beer.


Ace

My answer is a picture. (And a shameless self-promotion)



More stories, including an especially horrific one, after the jump.



Jen

A lot of things suck about living south of I-80. It's boring, backward and quite frankly, it usually smells funny. But once a year at this time I'm reminded of one saving grace - no White Sox fans. Seriously. None - or at least not enough to show up on the radar. But for a few months in 2005 have I had to see a single jersey in Springfield, Champaign, Peoria or Decatur. Hell, even when I hear "Sox" I generally think Red. (But before you city folk pack your bags, it's not all peaches and puppy dogs down here - the hole created in their absence is filled by something equally void of shirt and teeth: Cardinals fans.)
However, I do have a story from a past game that I've worked very hard to repress. As usual, it was a clusterfuck on the L while heading to the game, with no seats available. There was one twitchy gentleman, sporting a stained wifebeater and meth scabs, who decided if there were no seats he'd just crawl around on the disgusting floor of the train - until of course, he stops by yours truly and sparks up a conversation. Most people would have ignored the junkie but oh no, not me - God forbid I be rude to the crazy man CRAWLING ON THE FLOOR OF THE L AT 11:30 IN THE MORNING. He asked if I wanted to go to Lollapalooza with him and I declined (with deep regret, of course) that I was only in town for the game. He said, "Where are you from?" to which I replied, "Springfield". He said "Oh. Never heard of it." and I stifled a bitchy laugh (Well, come on! There's 34.) and replied, "Um, it's the state capital." He blinked a few times and said, "I knew that." Perhaps feeling his intelligence was insulted or maybe an attempt to impress me further, he curled down by my feet (encased in flip flops and trust me, this detail is key) in the guise of taking a nap. I assumed our meeting was concluded until I felt the very undeniable sensation of a complete stranger licking MY BIG TOE. I shrieked, quickly ripped it away, climbed away onto the lap of my friend while the offender giggled to himself and laid his scabby head down on the floor of the train. The tie-in? This toe-licking predator had a very noticeable tattoo on his pasty spaghetti arm (above the track marks) of…the White Sox logo. So, perhaps not Cubs-related violation but still a very traumatic - and not altogether un-stereotypical - White Sox encounter.

Corey

I have heard folks from the Windy City wonder if this rivalry is as fierce outside the city. Andy and I discussed this at the local watering hole during Wednesday's game. We are about three hours from Chicago and I know three White Sox fans. One is probably the biggest douchebag I've met. However, he's an ass in all areas of life and I am not sure if the White Sox play a role in that. My brother and my dad are White Sox fans. They follow the team and will defend the White Sox, but are not nearly as passionate about their team as the Cubs fans that I know.

Cubs fans here get wound up for the Crosstown Series, but I think it's due to the media attention the series gets. Obviously, we get WGN TV and Comcast, but we're also able to pick up WGN radio and The Score. So the media rachets things up for the series and we get sucked in like everyone else. So I guess I could say that the Cubs fans I know here have the same hatred for the White Sox that I hear from Cubs fans in Chicago, we just don't really have a good reason for it on a personal level since Sox fans are rare around here.

TLFC

Adolf Hitler. Charles Manson. White Sox Fans. Some might think that we here at the Ted Lilly Fan Club are being a bit rash lumping the Southsiders in with the man behind the Holocaust and a notorius serial killer but we don't think so. When the White Stockings won the World Series in 2005, we were fully behind our former arch nemesis, the Houston Astros and did everything we could to make our homemade Jermaine Dye and Joe Crede voodoo dolls work but, despite all of this, somehow they won and thus started the Blue Period of the TLFC. Similar to Picasso's Blue Period, ours was marked by severe fits of depression, countless hours speaking to the TLFC in-house psychiatrist Dr. Katz and god knows how many nightmares (not in color...but in ChiSox-friendly black and white). Thankfully, the stars aligned, Ted Lilly signed with the Cubs and all was right with the world but do we hate White Sox fans? "Hate" is a strong word but, yes, we hate them.

Cubbiejulie

I've got a ton of Sox stories, from the time I saw the morbidly obese Sox fan couple in spandex and tank tops at O'Hare to the Sox fans who beat up a father in front of his kids following a cross-town game at the Cell. But for me, Sox fans are best understood by their ideas of "victory decorations" following the 2005 WS.

As the team was making its way towards the Loop for the big celebration at Daley Plaza, they passed through a whole bunch of neighborhoods on the South Side. What struck me most about the "decorations" the fans had strung across their streets and hung from their upstairs windows was that most we made out of sheets. Mind you, these were not new, crisp, white sheets that someone had purchased solely for the celebration. These were people's old, soiled, disgusting sheets. They spray painted misspelled words on them and hung them outside, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Sheets with oily yellow stains where someone's head had been, faded brown blood stains where someone had gotten her period, and God only knows what else.

It was one of the most disgusting displays I've ever seen, and I've never forgotten it. This is why Cubs fans are inherently superior to Sox fans in every way: we would at least buy new sheets.

Waxpaperbeercup

I gotta plead the fifth on this one. (my better half is a sox fan)

For what it's worth, WAIW's opinion is that Jen's junkie toe-licking incident is the winner. But chime in in the comments section, let us know what you think. I think I saw a tumbleweed in the comments section the other day.

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Cubs 6 - White Sox 5: You Gotta Hit Rock Bottom First

Derrek Lee acknowledges Soriano's game-winning hit with the traditional knockout rag of ether

Let's set the scene:

3:21 PM
Steve: 5-1
we done
John: i saw
John: we'll be going to games for $10 by the end of the year
Steve: yay?
John: didn't mean it like that
Steve: thats how it damn well sounded
John: nope
despair
3:24 PM
John: despair and woe is how that was conceived
Steve: this team is pretty bad.
John: pissed that we're going to hit a 2006 level of pathetic the year after 97 wins.
3:31 PM Steve: ya
3:32 PM John: the Indians suck ridiculously
let's hope we can enjoy a weekend series
Steve: sweeeept.
3:33 PM beat the crap out of the sox.
who are beating us.
John: well, the transitive property is a shitty predictor for baseball
Steve: math is god.
John: easy there, Richard Dawkins
3:34 PM Steve: follow me.
oh bradley.
John: i think we should just stop paying him
and let him sue for it until we can litigate him into settling
Steve: lee!
John: for a more reasonable salary
3:35 PM Steve: homer!
me: dammit
Steve: 3 run baby!
me: I need to type angry faster
now I look all inappropriate

That's pretty much how it went today, and my entire life. Every time I hit rock bottom, something happens to make me look like an asshole. More Cubs comeback goodness, after the jump.



This was sweet - really damn sweet. I got to listen to the end of the game in my truck, and I've become fairly convinced that listening to 1-run Cubs games in the later innings is more dangerous than cell phone talking while driving. I looked down, and I was doing a good 10 miles per hour faster than my usual without noticing. Not that it didn't come with a fair amount of indigestion. For the at-work GameCast version of my day, things were bleak, as evidenced by the conversation above. But all's well that ends well.

"Listen, you whiny bastard. Nobody fucks with DeJesus."

Zambrano was good today - one really bad pitch to Alexi Ramirez gave him two more runs than he probably deserved on the day. A solid 7 inning, 3 earned run performance, but a no decision. Good production from Bradley, D.Lee, and a redemptive home run by Fatty Soto. Reed and Sori were clutch as fuck, and Kevin Gregg earned the win.

"Oh boy! I hit a home run! This is so awesome ... now Mom's gonna make Totino's Pizza Rolls!"

There you have it. Irredeemable depression turned into insane glee with a few swings of the bat. Such is baseball.

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The Sosa Thing: Our First and Last Post on the Matter

Sammy and McGwire discuss the usual topics that puffy monsters do: "fire bad," "hit ball good," and, most heart-warmingly, "you ... friend"

We suppose that it is indeed time to address the Sosa thing. While I suppose you might read our hesitance as a sign of emotional conflict or some fancy, Lifetime Movie shit like that, we're sorry to tell you it's more apathy. But we'll play ball.

Sammy Sosa on steroids!?!? That's UNPOSSIBLE!

Now then, he was a big part of our favorite team for a long time. Here are our respective views of the guy, after the jump.



John

I won't lie, I was one of Sammy's biggest supporters during his glory days - especially 1998. It was my first year of high school, and I bonded with a lot of new people over the Cubs and their ridiculously haphazard (Brant Brown, anyone?) run to the playoffs.

I guess the Wild Card run is what really got me. Having the best-hitting outfielder in the game was just the sort of icing on the cake that I'd never experienced as a Cubs fan. Sure, I'd had Dawson, Sandberg, and Grace, but this was the first time I could experience the Cubs having a dominant, universally recognizable player. I saved whatever money I could to buy a Sammy Sosa jersey. It ended up being one of those weird Cuba-looking road jerseys, because it was cheapest, and even then I was a cheap bastard.

Anyway, I did cheer with Sammy for every hit, even if he did set the mold for Soriano with his late-career defense. I was a big fan. But this doesn't really hurt, because I got over Sammy once I grew up a little and put the pieces together. He anointed himself King Shit of Fuck Mountain (Fuck Mountain = Chicago), and I'm not really sure I dug that. I also came to the conclusion that it's not natural for a grown man to jump a half-dozen helmet sizes and pack on 60 pounds of muscle mid-career. So I didn't grow up to be quite the Sammy fan that my early youth promised.

The man still gave me some good times back when it was a lot harder to be a Cubs fan. If you're being enough of a bitch to need an easily digestible lesson from me, then just think of this - Sammy was an easy to like, rewarding to support, all-star Chicago athlete. He was the gateway drug that got an entirely new base of Cubs fans to graduate to the harder stuff - supporting Ted Lilly, digging Henry Blanco's crazy eyes, and swooning over Mark DeRosa. At least he got a lot of us to that point. Sammy Sosa, gateway drug. There, lesson over.

What we need, for fuck's sake, is some perspective. Al Yellon from Bleed Cubbie Blue wrote the following things in his reaction:

"We now know, presuming the report on Sosa is true, that the joy was indeed stolen from us. The numbers put up were put up by cartoon figures, not baseball players as we had known them for decades earlier. I know, I know, amphetamines in the 50s and 60s, other PEDs, other ways of cheating, ad nauseum.

But we were sold a bill of goods. They all swore up and down that they were honest -- "Flintstone vitamins," Sammy told us with a straight face. Now we know that face was lying to us, presuming the report is true.:

Al, we love ya, but you need a slap like a hysterical woman in an Old West movie.

Steve

Sosa has been quite the polarizing figure recently. I believe I was one of the first to turn on the man. I know I starting shitting on John quite a bit when he would wear his prized Sosa jersey because I didn't think he was that good of a player. Hell, the only time he would hustle was when he would run out to right. Something about him just bugged me. It was a couple seasons later that others joined me in my "sick of Sosa" crusade, and I was the first to be the "I told you so(sa!) (HAHAHAHAHA I hate myself, I hate myself) asshole.

All that being said, even if he was juiced up more than Kool-Aid, you still have to give him credit for bringing back baseball. Those years after the strike, attendance was brutal and not many people cared. The home run chase summer was an exciting time, and it brought our favoritepast time back in the forefront of people's minds. So, say what you want to say about that man, and clearly I am no Sosa sympathizer, but he does deserve a lot of credit.

Do I think he should be in the Hall of Fame? I can't say I do. And I honestly don't believe the voters do either.

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Sucked Against Sox

It was unfortunate that Jonathan Silverman's strategy didn't work as well here as it did in "Weekend at Bernies"

It's a funny thing, living in Chicago during the crosstown series. Unlike other teams, the White Sox fans are primarily in the local area, and they only seem to want to talk about their team when they are playing the Cubs. Their moment in the spotlight, if you will. The fact that both of these teams are currently under .500 doesn't matter. You want the win. I can't imagine this series feels the same way to people outside of the city - but let me tell you - here, it is quite a big deal. As soon as the final out occurred, of course, I had to hear it from every Sox fan I know. Fortunately, their inability to construct structures makes it nearly impossible to deceiver what they mean. Like this man, inexplicably talking about sows. "Sow win, Cubs lose" - is this a veiled threat against the Cubs with a strain of swine flu?! Oh you South Siders.

John Danks was unaccustomed to fans in the stands

Listening to the game was pretty awful. Another game with no hits when it mattered, going 0-7 with runners in scoring position. That's like getting a bunch of triples in Connect Four (editor's full disclosure: I kick ass at Connect Four: diagonals are my speciality!) - we just can't seem to get the ones that matter. As has been a recurring theme this year, it is really a struggle watching this team. They just can't seem to get it going. We need to play .600 ball for the rest of the year to get to 90 wins. There was a point this year, where I thought 105 wins was a possibility. Oh the innocence of my 25 and 8 month youth. As a 25 and 10 month-er, I now know I was blinded by fancy payrolls and past glory. I have learned from my ways, and am willing to accept that this team isn't what I had expected. But my goodness, can we beat the friggin' Sox?

Walk of shame

So tomorrow the series is technically on the line. I really would like the win and avoid the sweep. That being said, I'm intrigued about the make-up game in September. If both these teams are in the race, it will be one crazy scene. Hope we can pull it out...either way, I'll be listening. Go Cubs!

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Typical South Side Spelling Skills

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Wrath of God Delays Wrath of Man

Yesterday, something completely shocking and traumatic thing happened to Cubs fans, and we'll be dealing with the aftermath all week. The game against the Sox was rained out. What, you thought I was referring to something else? I loved Sammy, and even I'm not naive enough to think he broke Roger Maris's record 3 times on Flintstones Vitamins alone. More on Sammy later today.

Anyhow, this rain-out sucks more than perhaps any other rain-out can. It screws up the entire crosstown series, and deprives us of an intriguing Danks/Zambrano match that I was eager to see. Considering Cubs.com is telling me jack shit, we don't even know when the makeup will be. So now we've got, at best, a two-game series versus the Sox. That is lame as fuck.

To make up for nature's crimes against man, I'm going to take a two-step course of action.

1.) I'm going to go outside, try to find leaded gasoline for my truck, and spend the entire day burning it into the atmosphere via the Kennedy. That will teach this planet to mess with my hobbies. I will then quickly and tearfully apologize, because I'm planning to cook outside this weekend, and I have tickets to Friday's game.

2.) I'm going to show you some pictures that, literally, I have saved for a rainy day. Check them out after the jump.

I found this at Sports World on Monday, when I was in the neighborhood. I feel betrayed. Sports World, how could you? Steve and I buy jerseys from you! You're at the corner of Addison and Clark, for fuck's sake!

Okay, I think I may have overdone it in hyping my love for new-taste/old-taste Old Style. Now begins my "Old Style Sucks" campaign in an effort to drive it back below $6 a 12 pack. And bring back the 30-cubes, you sons of bitches!

People actually pay money for these. If you see any of these people, scream "I NEED AN ADULT!" and run away as fast as you can.

That is so lame - I'm guessing there are rollerblades in the trunk and a Raffi CD in the dash. Would I have so much disdain for a "Cubs Pal" plate? You bet your ass I would.

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Our Cubs/Sox Story: Welcome to the Terrordome

Let me set the scene for you. It's 2003, and the Cubs are, oddly enough, in spitting distance of first place in the Central at the end of June. Steve and I get offered free tickets to the Cubs/Sox tilt at Comiskey Park (this was pre-name whoring) from a friend of ours whose dad gets free Sox tickets through work. No, he was not a meth dealer. I wore my Sammy Sosa #21 home jersey, 1994 model, where "Cubs" is written out to look like "Cuba." Steve is similarly rocking Cubs paraphernalia.

It turns out the Cubs were not the only thing in spitting distance - while not directly expectorated upon (a post-game analysis revealed no acid burns on said clothing), we were privy to the most venomous shit talking that I'd ever seen. A bald Hispanic guy the size of a baby bull decided to single me out, getting in the face of me (likely two decades his junior, and only 19) year old to acidly insist that "Cubs suck" three inches from my face, repeatedly. This was not "Cubs suck! HAW HAW HAW!" This was "I'm a Sox fan, and I desire to rape you." There's no real cool way to react to that, but I did exit the situation like a man, which meant with both urine and bowel matter still firmly ensconced in its proper place. This was perhaps two minutes out of the turnstile. It didn't get any better as we found our seats, but there was also no more involuntary, subconscious defensive tightening of the sphincter muscle. There was yelling and shit talking from the first pitch to the last, with both sides going at it with that annual glee that tends to build up as people think of the perfect comeback from an insult they heard last year.





Woody was on the mound for the Cubs that day, so I felt good. But he'd never beaten the White Sox before, taking losses in all of his previous appearances. And in that stip-mall cauldron of B.O. and screaming tank topped men, how could he possibly overcome? When the Sox took the lead in the 2nd on a sac fly and the Cubs failed to respond, I was devastated. Esteban Loaiza was on the mound for the Sox, and (hard as it is to believe) he was really, really damn good back then, 11-2 before that day, and on his way to 21 wins.

But everything changed in the 4th when Sosa singled to center and Moises Alou (who not everyone knew peed on his hands on purpose at the time) hit a hard line drive that just kept traveling until it shut up the Sox fans in our section. 2-1 Cubs. Suck on that, Loaiza. Forgotten favorite Eric Karros followed that up with a ground-rule double, and Tom Goodwin smacked him in two batters later. Corey Patterson (batting 5th!!!) fielders choiced in another run to run it to 4-1.

If you ever want to feel palpable hate, go as an away fan to a Cubs/Sox game and give boisterous high fives to everyone in your section when the Cubs spend a couple of innings smacking around the Sox ace. If they could have given me urethra cancer with my eyes, they will. Woody did his part, battling through a bases-loaded, one-out jam in the 7th that had me convinced he was done, and went 8 strong, earning the much-deserved W with 2 earned runs and 4 hits. The Cubs and Sox swapped a couple of line-drive solo homers, and Mike Remlinger and Sweaty Joe combined to close out the 9th. And holy shit was I ecstatic. The emotional payoff was immense, probably because I felt I'd earned it.



The Sox fans that day were, as many of them still are, absolute bastards. I've never felt such a palpable hate toward (and from) people that I didn't know much about. I'm fairly certain that if so many of them weren't morbidly obese, they would have contemplated delivering a Dragon Kick to my lower back. We were sworn at, threatened, and intimidated the entire day. And my god, was it glorious. This was fierce, competitive rivalry at its best. Baseball, being 162 games a season, is too often criticized as slow, a little too low-key. That day at 35th and Shields, it felt as exciting and real as any game I've ever attended. And when we pulled out the victory behind a great day form Woody, I slept the sleep of the just and righteous. It's not for everyone, but the feeling of triumphing after spending a day as a hated enemy in unfriendly territory was like a shot of pure adrenaline. Perhaps the best game of my life, and I wasn't even old enough to enjoy a beer.

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Cubs Media Monday First Day of My Work Week: Now You're On The Trolley!

I command you, watch this video.



The Cubs are in sort of an awkward position, beer-wise. Many of our fans are beer orphans, roughly passed around the brewing industry like a Alpha Chi Omega at any party that serves alcohol and girls with low self-esteem. What are we to drink? And furthermore, how will I tangentially relate this to a video I took six minutes to find as I sat at home eating curry and watching a Billy Mays commercial? Find out, after the jump.



- Budweiser? Sure, Harry drank it, but it's undeniably the beer of the hated St. Louis Cardinals (and whatever Belgian soccer team also qualifies as sucky and white trash). Plus, Bud Light sucks. It's just terrible. If it is your first choice of beer, then please re-think your life. Oh, it's benefit is "drinkability"? You can drink it, unlike the bucket of nails I keep trying to get drunk on?!? Well shit me, sign me up. I hope whoever came up with that slogan dies in a porta potty.

- Miller? My family is big on Lite, but they're arguably more associated with the Brewers than Bud is with the Cards. Plus, Miller Chill tastes like a citronella candle. And I don't have the uterus necessary to tout the benefits of a beer that has 64 calories and tastes like 1/3 of a regular beer left out in the rain. How about you have 64 calories of shut the fuck up?

- Guinness? Never happen, though I pray one day it might. We'd see pink jersey girls and frayed-visor dudes dropping left and right as the power of the legendary Irish brew burned them alive for their sins of douchiness. Plus, you know, some people find it a bit heavy.

This only leaves one choice, ladies and gentlemen. Support your local Old Style! I swear to Harry Caray's statue, it tastes so much better since they began krausening it again. My own investigative journalism confirms as much. Hell, are you going to argue with the ghost of James Cagney?

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Weekend Recap: Oh, Son of a ...

"Why are they booing me? Oh, right."

Remember last week, when we recapped the series with the Reds and said that it sort of felt like a loss? That it didn't feel that great because of the tedious, 5+ hour games? Well, it turns out that actually losing series feels worse. Our mistake. Allow us a brief Pros and Cons of our series loss to the Minnesota Super Blands.

Friday: Twins 7, Cubs 4
W - Kevin Slowey (9-2, 4.23 ERA), L - Randy Wells (0-3, 2.55), S - Joe Nathan (14, 1.85)

Sweeeeet

Milton Bradley went 2-4, raising his batting average to .224. Hey, you've got to start somewhere.

Sweet fuck, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?

Randy Wells - Some of the shine came off of the golden boy on Friday, with him giving up 4 earned runs on 7 hits over 3.2 innings. Waddell, Patton, and Heilman spent the end of the game taking turns sucking. Aaron Heilman is just Bobby Howry in a fat suit.

Oh, and Bradley's ball flip thing? The next day, I was fairly certain I'd dreamed it.

Perhaps they'll knock some offense into each other

Saturday: Twins 2, Cubs 0. W - Anthony Swarzak (2-2, 3.90), L - Rich Harden (4-3, 4.53), S - DAMN YOU, JOE NATHAN! (15, 1.78)

Portillo's

Nice to have Rich Harden back, and he gave his usual solid 6-inning performance. Just don't breathe too hard if you're at the game. You might injure him.

The Olive Garden

THE ENTIRE CUBS OFFENSE. THEY WERE SHUT OUT BY SOME DICK NAMED ANTHONY SWARZAK.

Stop giving me hope, Derrek!

Sunday: Cubs 3, Twins 2. W - Carlos Marmol (2-1, 3.26), L - Jesse Crain (2-3, 8.15)

Clint Eastwood's "Unforgiven"

I hope this sent a message to Ryan Theriot - bring back the slap swing, succeed. Try to hit home runs, fail. Bring back the low-intensity singles hitter! Someone's gotta get on base, dammit.

Also, Fatty Soto went 3-4 with a couple of doubles. Run off those Hot Pockets, you magnificent bastard!

Clint Eastwood's "The Bridges of Madison County"

D.Lee is hitting, Bradley may be starting to hit. And we're such critical bastards, we always need a goat (poor choice of words). We're going to be looking at either Fuku or Sori pretty damn soon unless they pull some White Sox heroics. And I'm thiking Soriano gets shit first, as even when he's sucking hard, Fuku magically manages an almost-.400 OBP.



Again, this is one of those series that really pissed me off, because they won the last game and gave me hope. And we need some damn hope, because the hated White Sox come to Wrigley Tuesday, followed by K.Wood and Mark "Panty Target" DeRosa over the weekend. Hope, damn ye! HOPE!

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WAIW Cubs Blog Roundtable, Week 12: Most Likely To ...

First one to point out the hidden surprise in this otherwise ordinary photo gets the respect of WAIW - and maybe something from the prize chest. (Editor's Note: Prize chest may or may not exist)

Apologies for the lack of action the last couple of days - I've had school, and Steve has had work. Why don't these respective institutions understand the importance of baseball, and of blogging said sport? Anyway, even the horrors of the real world (and the horrors of Cubs hitting) couldn't keep us from running this week's roundtable. Although to due the recent academic wringing out of my brain-sponge, you won't be getting the clever bylines this week. Just click on their names to go to their blogs, and make something clever up for yourself, you damn vultures! Ah, it's good to be back. Now then, AHEM!

We at WAIW are lucky enough to be acquainted with the operators of a bunch of excellent Cubs blogs. Every Friday throughout the 2009 season, we're going to bring as many of them as we can together to share their thoughts on being Cubs fans. This week - we're going all high school on the 2009 Chicago Cubs:

In the spirit of this article and its academic reference, we're going to ask you to go yearbook on this year's Chicago Cubs roster.Give us 3-5 Chicago Cubs most likely to do anything. Make the categories up yourself. Could be most likely to open an IHOP after retirement, most likely to become a serial killer, or most likely to melt a bunch of Nazis with the Arc of the Covenant. Tap into that long dormant high-school hostility and let us know what this year's squad will graduate to.

Ivy Envy

This week's answers will be done by Andy on behalf of Ivy Envy:

Most likely to be a wood shop teacher: Koyie Hill

Most likely to be Owen Wilson's stunt double: Mike Fontenot

Most likely to go into the family business: Milton Bradley (or most likely to operate a wrecking ball for a construction company)

Most likely to work for the Department of Weights and Measures: Bobby Scales

Most likely to become an Easter Island statue impersonator: David Patton

Most likely to become a top salesman in a failing company: Randy Wells

Most likely to become a musician who releases an excellent first album and a terrible second album: Geovany Soto

Most likely to fail in his bid to become a pro-darts player: Carlos Marmol




Ginger Russ

John- Here is my reply for this week. Now onto a swear-filled entry over at COI.

Most likely to open a Bubba Gump Shrimp Company Franchise: This of course goes to Mike Fontenot & Ryan Theriot or "The Cajun Connection". After leaving the Cubs, the Riot and the Pocket Rocket open their own Bubba Gump Shrimp Company featuring all items in miniature versions (which I will then blog about hating).

Most likely to play a Munchkin in the broadway version of "Wizard of Oz": He's a midget, he loves to hug everyone and he plays like he has a lollypop stuck up his ass. Aaron Miles will play the character, Ojo the Unlucky, before he becomes Ojo the Lucky and will reenact plays in which he ruined wins for the Cubs by striking out or letting 5 foot line drives go over his head.

Least likely name to be recognized as a Cubs player at the 10 year reunion: David Patton...oh you mean that horrible pitcher we always called "Rule 5".

Most likely to become a WWE Superstar: Alfonso Soriano was recently called out by former Real World "star" turned pro wrestler "The Miz" during an event in Chicago. After retiring, Soriano will join the WWE under the name el Frijoles Saltarine (the Jumping Bean). Much like the 80's wrestler, Leaping Lanny Poffo (the Wrestling Poet who used to read poems he would write on frisbees and then throw into the audience), Soriano's signature move will include "hopping" from the top turnbuckle onto his opponents.

Most likely to be featured in a Cock Fighting Magazine: Oh wait, that already happened...

*Side note: Leaping Lanny Poffo is the brother of the "Macho Man" Randy Savage" and I actually caught one of his frisbees while attending a WWF show at the Rosemont Horizon.

Jen

I put aside my own high school bitterness about being voted "most flirtatious" (which we all know is the equivalent to calling me "class whore") to share a few Cubs that I know must be destined for greatness:

Most likely to slaughter a band of pirates while rescuing a boatload of kittens: Ted Lilly

Most likely to have a questionable mole lanced: David Patton

Most likely to become a shop teacher: Koyie Hill

Most likely to star in a made-for-TV "WGN original" buddy cop movie: Kosuke Fukudome & Milton Bradley

Most likely to be hired as "Clark Kent double/pixie dust spreader for Tilt-o-Whirl" at the Superman Festival in Metropolis, IL for $25/day (plus corn dog): Kevin Gregg

Ted Lilly Fan Club

Ted Lilly: Most likely to partner with a wookie named Chewbacca and Jedi Knight named Luke to help save the galaxy from the evil Empire

Mike Fontenot: Most likely to return to a starring role on TLC's "Little People, Big World" (too much? we kid, we kid...)

Jeff Samardzija: Most likely to embark on a life-long campaign to convince the good folks at Scrabble that proper names should be allowed, ultimately scoring his own name at a record setting 750 pts (triple word score)

Milton Bradley: Most likely to get a permenant ban from baseball after he puts a bat through an ump's throat after a called third strike, prompting him to return home to the family board game business

Brett Jackson (new Cubs draft pick from UC-Berkley): Most likely to tear up the minors for a few years, become a bust in the majors and join fellow high draft picks Bobby Hill, Corey Patterson and Hee Seop Choi in the Cubs Prospect Wall of Shame

Ace

Most likely to be bored at an amusement park: Mike Fontenot.

Most likely to lose an ear: Milton Bradley.

Most likely to eat that ear: Carlos Zambrano.

Jay

Most likely to get an entire grade of children killed by waving them into traffic and then suddenly stopping them in the middle of the street: Mike Quade

Most likely to get caught chopping up bullpen pitchers and discarding them in plastic garbage bags: Randy Wells

Most likely to appear in an infomercial: David Patton (lovingly referred to as Shamwow at BLT due to his mop up ability)

Most likely to secede: Milton Bradley

Most likely to be outed as a superhero who was born on the planet Krypton and gets his powers from the yellow sun...and best eyes: Ted Lilly

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Cubs 7 - Astros 1: Lilly Working on his Night Cheese

Fuku hit the Astros like they were the Yaukult Sparrows. Ho ho ho ho! That is so fitting a Japanese baseball reference. You have no idea.

At the end of this very week, I'll be completing graduate school. I mention this not only for my own ego, but to lend gravity to the statement which I wish to make regarding tonight's performance. And so, from a learned (pronounced ler-NED) and academic perspective, I wish to say this: The Cubs took an absolute Cleveland Steamer upon the Astros this evening. Everything which hadn't worked against the chili-eating AAA roster from the Queen City clicked tonight against the squad from the Gum Cancer City. And as I enjoyed it behind a tall, frosty beer and a pile of cheap buffalo wings (not Hooters), it appeared all the more transcendent. It was the cure for a weekend series win that still felt like ass.



First and foremost - and this is almost getting repetitive to keep writing - Ted Lilly hath become death, the destroyer of worlds. In the words of Professor Steven Hawking, he was all up in the Astros' shit the entire night. Another fine outing - 6 2/3 pitched, 3 hits, no runs, and a shit-ton of Astros in the fetal position. Good work, sir. Though we're fairly convinced you're a cyborg, we hope our adoration will spare us in the coming War With the Machines (TM). Aaron Heilman and Lefty came in for the last 2.1 innings, and aside from one of those shitty left field Minute Maid Choo Choo Train Park home runs, all was good. Eleven more of these in a row, and we might forget that Heilman's season has been an abject failure.

Before you ask - no, D.Lee is not on a step ladder

Special Super Duper WAIW Birthday Wishes to Malibu Mike, who went 4-5 with two runs and an RBI in anticipation of a glut of birthday spanking offerings from the Cub Blogging community.Happy 29th, sir!

"Hey fuck you! This is Hurricane Ike's fault!"

Aside from Malibu, it was a banner night for everyone, with 16 hits spread pretty evenly around the lineup. D.Lee, Fuku, Geo Soto, Andy White, and even Ted Himself got a piece of that sweet, sweet Cleveland Steamer action. I wish we could face Brian Moehler every night - we used to get down on Jason Marquis, but putting Moehler on the mound is literally like purposely putting cancer in your pancreas and hoping it doesn't kill you too bad before you get far. The Astros bullpen gave up another 8 hits and 2 runs, so they weren't great either. But, you know, they're the Astros. Which is fortunate for us.

Tonight was a nice, cathartic kicking of ass. Here's hoping we see a couple more before we come home to face the blandest fanbase in Christendom.

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Weekend Recap: Could Be Worse

I think this pretty much sums up how we all would look if we were the ones that had to talk to the bullpen

Things could be worse. As a team, we aren't really coming together and there are many glaring holes, yet we still are only 3.5 games out of first. I know, it's hard to believe. It's like the time I put in a bid of $1 on eBay for 47 McDonald's Happy Meal toys to prove a point that I never win anything on eBay, only to have a big shipment of crap show up at my door a week later: we are somehow still in this despite our best efforts to not really want to be. So much like my personal life, we keep on hanging in there, and before you know it, a shit load of 101 Dalmatians will show up at our respective doors.

Alex Gonzalez shows Ryan Theriot where to let a grounder go if you want to blow the pennant

As far as a road series goes, I am not going to be upset about taking 2 of 3. It is a shame that Wells still hasn't gotten a win despite superb pitching. It must piss him off to see Arroyo with 7 wins and a 5.00 ERA while Wells has none with a 1.86 ERA. Especially because, you know, Bronson Arroyo is a huge douche. Wells' fine outing was ruined by the bullpen, a phrase I hope the Cubs don't copyright, or else all the beat writers and bloggers will go broke. Fortunately, redemption was had after 14 innings and the Cubs got the win in a game which I did not have much faith in. I happened to be at the White Sox game that day (for work LAY-OFF!!!!), and turned the Cubs game on in the sky box. I jokingly said that I was going to be pissed because the Sox game would be over before the Cubs game and I would have to leave before I could see the end. Well, my friends, that is exactly what happened. Miraculously, I was able to make it home by the top of the 14th (not surprisingly, red line crowds are like the attendance at U.S. Cellular - very sparse) and saw the Cubbies pull it out. That, coupled with a White Sox pounding, made it a pretty decent Sunday.

Evidently, "Rosales Hustle" is Cincinnatian for "Fast Food"

After an off day today (which allowed for your favorite slackers at WAIW this leisurely recap posting), we are off to Houston for three winnable games against the last place Astros (I know we are only 3.5 games ahead of them and the whole point of this post is about how 3.5 games is nothing - but it gives me more confidence to say "last place Astros"). I really hope something starts to click with this team soon though, because, despite taking 2 of the 3 games this past weekend, for some reason I don't feel good about it. Damn off-days, give me time to reflect. Let's play some ball already!

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