Don't Panic!!!!

Good grief, the past three days have been depressing. In addition to the stock market tanking and my liver fighting Vegas induced atrophy, the Cards lost three in a row to the Phillies. I'm pretty sure this combination makes me a poor and fragile loser, which I dislike intensely. I imagine this must be how Cubs fans feel. It's unsettling. After a series of texts with Dad last night, in which I whined about these recent failures, he finally talked me down from the ledge by reminding me that the big pictures is still rosy for the Redbirds and that the Cubs are absolutely terrible. It cheered me slightly, I admit. I was able to sleep last night knowing that the Pirates swept the Scrubbies and pummeled them 11-1 in the finale. However, this losing crap needs to come to a stop! I've become quite accustomed to and comfortable with the Cardinals winning lots of baseball games, and I'm actually a much nicer person when this happens with regularity. Remember the sociopath I became during the 2008 season? NOBODY WANTS THAT! I fear for my friends, family and co-workers if this shame spiral continues any longer. As in, I fear I will no longer have any.

Regardless, the season lumbers on tonight as the Birds fly west across Pennsylvania to visit the Pirates. One can only hope they have a little more success on this end of the state. After three consecutive days of bad news, I could use a little pick me up. It's either that or I start swearing at the TV again, which my mother assures me is done enough by my father for all of us. We have a very special family.

Anyone Got a Painkiller? A Shotgun? A Shot Luge? ANYONE????

In case anyone cares to notice, I have been MIA for the last odd week or so. It isn't because I don't care anymore, it's just that I don't have much else to say. I know I'm not a good loser, but I never thought it would drive me to total indifference. No matter how badly I want to join the Red Sox, Mets and Brewers' respective bandwagons, I'm still a blasted Cardinals fan. Which, quite frankly, sucks right now. So I've adopted a new practice. It's called avoidance. I have not paid the slightest bit of attention to any specific game since I last posted. So far, it's worked splendidly. By splendidly, I mean it's made absolutely no difference whatsoever. This is absurd. I'm still a homicidal maniac and the Birds are still one million games below five hundred and approximately seven light years out of first place. Where I usually would delve into specifics about a particular outing, I will refrain here. This is mostly attributed to the fact that aside from the final scores, I couldn't tell you what the heck is going on. I will tell you that it absolutely breaks my heart that we gave up fourteen freakin runs to the Tigers tonight. It's sort of fitting, I suppose. We were obviously destined to get decimated at the hands of our World Series foes, particularly since we can't even give anyone in the NL Central a good show. At this point, I'm ready to go to sleep and pretend like this whole season has been one loooooong bad dream. Unfortunately, me and my fellow Card fans have four long months still ahead of us. I don't know. Perhaps I should take up another hobby. Like stamp collecting. Nobody goes crazy collecting old postal service relics do they?

Sadly, the lone bright spot for me over the last few days has been the Cubs stinking it up in New York. My good friend and total savior over in Queens sent me an uplifting play-by-play of the ninth inning yesterday and I nearly felt human again. Oh, those wily Mets! I don't think they have anyone playing for them aside from Jose Reyes and David Wright that is under the age of 63, but they sure do know how to make Alzheimers work for them. This is the kind of thing that happens to the Cubs every day in my head. Boy, it sure is fun in there! I also sometimes climb mountains with Matt Damon, play Yahtzee with JFK and prance around open fields with puppies.