The Cubs

The Cubs

I'm having a hard time choking this one down. I got home in time yesterday to see the last half inning of play in the Cubs contention-ending game. Because God likes to tease me like that.

You know, it's easier to force out that "Wait till next year" crap when your team's out of contention in August. But this last weekend of the season choke artist bullshit does nothing for me. I don't know how you Boston people do it. It's a wonder you guys don't have more post offices and fast food restaurants shot up than you do. My team loses in the end every year...AND I have to wait in line behind the guy who can't choose between the Three Stooges Stamps or the Pretty Daisies Stamps?

I'd be in prison.

A brief letter I sent to "the American Dream" Dusty Rhodes last night:

Lord,

Please tell me whom I must smite. I will smite them. And then you will give the Cubs patience at the plate, and a couple of guys who know how to get on base in front of the big bats, and a bullpen that doesn't act like they're being paid to throw the games.

I think this is an acceptable deal.

If it is Sammy Sosa or Kyle Farnsworth I must smite, I would begin to tithe as well.

Thanks,
Tommy

Yeah. I try to laugh, because every time I watch "K"orey Patterson or Sammy Sosa or the Moistest Alou swing and miss and strike us out of a game, I feel like a dope. And Mr. Alou swung mightily yesterday.

Any other year, 88 wins would have been a major victory.

The polyannas Sloth likes to fight will prance and shout about two winning seasons in a row.

Fuck all that.

Any other year.