I Don't Like to Vacuum, But I LOOOOVE To Sweep!

Whew, that was close! Things looked as though they were going to get a little hairy last weekend, what with the Cardinals losing two of three to the Giants (their first series loss of the season) and the Cubs sweeping their three game visit to Milwaukee. But don't worry, people, it was simply a FALSE ALARM! Sure, I did go to the Cubs game on Monday night and nearly acquired hypothermia while the Nats bullpen kindly walked in the game winning run in the bottom of the 10th. Sure, Adam Wainwright wasn't QUITE as sharp today as he's otherwise been this season. However, some balance has been restored in the world over the past couple of days, as the wily Redbirds pounded on the last place Atlanta Braves for four straight games (making this a five game winning streak), while the Cubs lost their next two to Washington and don't appear likely to close the 8 run hole they are currently in against Arizona. And remember how I used to pick on David Freese? Well, that's all water under the bridge now, after his heroic 6 RBI game today. Congratulations, Mr. Freese! You've been exonerated for all of the random stuff I've been stubbornly holding against you for the past several weeks, which I'm sure is a HUGE relief. Now, if all goes according to plan, this ought to prop the Cards 5.5 games in front of the now third place Baby Bears and 4.5 ahead of second place Cincinnati. Not a bad place to be, if I do say so myself. Not a bad place at ALL. What is most definitely a bad place? The bleachers at Wrigley Field. Just ask this girl, who had to learn the hard way that you can't punch strangers in the face at the ballpark. Now, I know what you're thinking. Exceptions should definitely be made to that rule which excuse the savage beating of white trash Cubs fans. I completely agree with you, although I'm unfortunately having a tough time getting that legislation through Congress.

Anyhow, I'm likely going to miss all baseball related activities this weekend, as I'm jetting off to another potentially "bad" place. I've never been to Las Vegas before, but based on everything I learned from the movie "The Hangover", I'm probably going to end up roofied, married and/or missing a limb. Much like the Wrigley Field bleachers, it seems the laws of nature prevent one from leaving that town with any semblance of sobriety or dignity. Although if you look at the bright side, it's nice to know that these years of suffering amongst the Cub fan bleacher monkeys are finally going to pay off. It's been like Las Vegas boot camp, which probably comes off as more of a compliment than I intended. Because I hate them, you see. I just want to make sure that's clear.

I Like Big BATS and I Cannot Lie...

I've been putting this post off for a while now, (lest I jinx myself and force the Cardinals into a 10 game skid,) but the recent rash of awesomeness definitely warrants mentioning. As a seasoned skeptic, I'm not usually convinced that Redbird success is anything other than a total fluke. However, as the month of August wears on, I'm starting to subscribe to the theory that we might actually have a skilled, well balanced and fully synchronized group of ballplayers on our hands. The Birds have won 7 of their last 10 and now sit 4.5 games in first place ahead of the shame spiraling baby bears of Chi-town. It's an intoxicating feeling, to be sure. Hell, I hardly know what to do with myself! I think I could even hug a Cubs fan, although that might be taking it a little too far. Let's not get carried away here, people.

Speaking of the Scrubbies, those poor bastards have now lost five in a row, including a sweep by the Phillies at home. YIKES, that hurts! So much so that one drunken idiot in the center field bleachers decided to express his displeasure by dousing Shane Victorino with a plastic cup full of beer on Wednesday. Oh, those silly Cubs fans! Time and time again, they continue to prove themselves the poster children of class and dignity.

Anyway, I have to admit, I find this all rather uncomfortable. It's awkward to write about the Cardinals winning, as I can't muster up the sarcasm and indignant acidity that usually craft my commentary. I struggle with my analysis when it isn't spewed venomously, peppered with swear words or reduced to volatile and violent ranting. Thank goodness I'm a cynic or else this blog would be in some serious trouble! As great as things are going, I'm obviously completely convinced this will be the happiest I'm allowed to be all season. There's no way I get to coast through the rest of the year in a blissful state of euphoria, right? In fact, I'm going to go ahead and predict that things will go horribly wrong in September. By which I mean, cataclysmically, tortuously and mind meltingly WRONG. Chris Carpenter will fall down a flight of stairs, Albert Pujols will poke his eye out with a Sharpie, Matt Holliday will choke to death on a chicken wing and Tony LaRussa will be diagnosed with a rapidly progressing form of Alzheimer's that will prevent him from being able to tell the difference between a scorecard and a recipe for tater tot casserole. Despite this, the Cards will somehow take the wild card and then lose in the first round of the playoffs to the Dodgers.

Holy crap, I think I just gave myself a stroke.

Is This Mic On?

Oh, why, hello there! Long time, no blog. Considering we're just a short 17 days away from Opening Day, I figured it might be a good idea to dust off the ol' keyboard, do some mild finger stretching exercises and figure out what the hell is going on in St. Louis. After all, if I'm going to talk about the Cardinals for the next few months, it would probably help if I got caught up on all the off season exploits I've ignored all winter long. It's relatively safe to say that my tape dispenser knows more about this team than I do right now.

To that end, I should also point out that I haven't paid much attention to any of the exhilarating spring training action either, with the exception of catching a Sunday afternoon game against the Phillies last weekend. It just so happens my Dad was at that contest in Clearwater, FL with a few fellow Cardinal fans. He called the next day specifically to tell me that he'd seen some dipshit wandering around with a Cubs hat on. And so begins another season of being tortured by the rapidly multiplying and increasingly irksome Scrubbie fan base!

Anyway, I literally have no clue who we've got in the starting lineup this year, with the exception of the obvious. Tyler Greene? Never heard of him in my life, and that's just the infield. I think I recognize about half of the names on the pitching staff. Is that good? I have no clue. The only thing I DO know is that there is one glaring omission from the bullpen that will likely spare me from suffering 30-40 epileptic seizures over the course of the year. That name? Mr. Jason Isringhausen, who has migrated to Tampa where he will presumably finish out his career and kill off half of their elderly fans in the process. WHEW!!!

So, as I've made abundantly clear, I need to do a little bit of research before the season officially starts. However, it is with a warm hello, a cynically optimistic attitude (yes, I realize that's an oxymoron) and a healthy hatred for the Cubs that I enter this fresh new season. I've got the liquor cabinet stocked and the sarcasm cannon locked and loaded. Join me, won't you? This is going to be fun.

Two Down, One To Go

I'm trying really hard not to get ahead of myself here, but the last couple of days have been awfully satisfying. A text message from my father this morning said, "Is it bad to enjoy others misery?" And while I know the politically correct and morally obvious answer, I just can't get rid of this completely giddy feeling in my stomach. As nervous as I've been the past two days, you'd think it were the Cardinals in the playoffs. Although in all actuality, this has been much more fun. I mean, I REMEMBER being in the playoffs. It is, for the most part, a completely miserable and unenjoyable experience. In 2006, I didn't sleep for three weeks. My dreams were haunted by David Eckstein, Jeff Weaver and Yadier Molina. It was heinous and awful and utterly gut wrenching. I felt nauseous ALL THE TIME. It's almost cruel that eight different fan bases have to go through this every year. That being said, after this long and excruciating summer of hearing everyone in Chicago holler about this "team of destiny", I can't help but feel vindicated that the Cubs lie on the precipice of elimination. Again, no one needs to tell me how evil I am or how terrible it is that I feel this way. I'm completely aware of how selfish and wrong it may be. Yet, here I am. A temporary Dodgers fan. What a whirlwind!

The strangest part of the past 48 hours has not been how I've served as a target for angry and disgruntled Cubs fans, because that makes some kind of sense. (For example, one of my friends called me in a drunken stupor on Wednesday night accusing me of using a Ryan Dempster voodoo doll.) No, the weird part is how some of them have sought me out as a theoretical sympathetic soul. This, I cannot understand. Why anyone would turn to me for comfort in this situation, I have no idea. My ability to remain neutral was lost YEARS ago. I mean, I think I've made my pure and unadulterated distaste quite clear. Yet, here I am. A temporary Cubs fan therapist. Who ever woulda thunk it? Granted, I'm not very good at it and end up offending someone far more frequently than I end up helping them, but still. Some of these wackos actually give me enough credit as a PERSON to commiserate with their misfortune! Huh. Sports fandom sure is funny sometimes.

Big Z Is Big Baby

The jokes just write themselves, people. There isn't anything I can say that will do this series of events justice. In summary, Carlos Zambrano signed a $91.5M five-year contract with the Chicago Cubs, stunk up his next five starts, got booed by the fans and then cried about it.

Give me a break, Big Z. These are the most patient, pacified and complacent fans you'll find in all of baseball. Sometimes I don't even think they MIND losing they're so used to it. So COME ON!! Things must be pretty damn bad for them to react with such voracity. Generally, I don't like when fans boo their own players. It makes me uncomfortable and kind of sad. It's counter intuitive to me and I'll never really understand why fans do it or how it makes them feel better about a player or team that's struggling. I just don't see how it helps anything. However, I also think fans have the right to express their frustration and unhappiness over greedy, mouthy, egotistical hotheads that aren't pulling their weight or giving anyone reason to believe they're deserving of the big fat multi-million dollar contract they just landed. The Cubs spent the big bucks on Zambrano because they expected him to be a reliable ace. He's supposed to be the powerhouse pitcher in that rotation and if he wants to be treated that way, he needs to be playing that way. Now, I'm not saying it isn't okay for players to slump or go through some rough patches, but I AM saying it's ridiculous and ill-advised to then take it out on the people who are paying exorbitant tickets prices to sit and watch you do it. Being in the media spotlight, people like Carlos Zambrano can't afford to be quick tempered, rash and childish. You have to play for these fans for the next five years, buddy, and despite your half-assed PR generated apology, I don't think they are going to be so easy to forgive you. This becomes especially true if you can't start pitching like the guy they're paying for. It also doesn't do you any favors to tell a city of people that have been stubbornly loyal to this team for the past 99 years despite it sucking terribly that they are only thinking of themselves. Are you kidding me? Are they really supposed to feel sorry for you? Because I'm highly confident you weren't thinking about THEM when you were sitting down to ink that nearly $100M contract, you big whiner.

Anyhow, at least I'm not the only one in Chicago who hates him anymore. See, Cubs fans! I've been telling you all along, you just can't trust people that refer to themselves in the third person. At least that's what Lindsay Trumbull thinks.

Stop Raining, Dammit!

After Saturday's game was delayed and then interrupted by rain, the skies continued to unleash the fury yesterday causing game three to be postponed before the end of the third inning. This was great news for people that didn't want to have to sit through three hours of watching Carlos Zambrano scratch himself, but not so good for those hoping to see him accidentally drown in a puddle. I, for one, am sort of grateful for the day off, as it's allowed my anxiety levels to return to normal. Being out in Wrigleyville on Saturday in my Cardinals attire probably increased the likelihood of my eventual institutionalization by about 85%. I swear on my life, if one more person told me to "GO HOME, CARDINAL!" I was going to snap and flatten his face with a bar stool. I AM home, you ignorant morons! Last I checked, you didn't have to automatically abandon your intelligence and become a Cubs fan in order to become a Chicago resident. Add that to the game itself, and I was even saltier then normal by the time it was all said and done. (I'm refusing to comment on the details of the actual baseball contest, because I'm not even close to being over the many things that angered me in its duration.)

Anyhow, it's raining again here in Chicago, so expect a soggy ending to today's finale. Nothing lifts the spirits of baseball fans like three consecutive days of rain delays! WEEEEEE!!!!

Introducing...Baby Eckstein!!!

Monday was just NOT a good day. The Cards were back in New York, which meant I was receiving text message taunts from my Mets friend in Queens and the Cubs were home again after sweeping the White Sox, which meant my neighborhood was even more obnoxious then usual. After dropping two of three to the Phillies over the weekend, the Birds seemed poised to lose another after newly acquired starting pitcher Mike Maroth gave up a third inning home run to Carlos Gomez. Naturally, we didn't disappoint as Russ Springer gave up a walk off home run to Shawn Green in the 11th causing the Mets to perform one of the most bizarre victory routines I've ever seen. Simultaneously, I'm sitting outside Wrigley Field in a beer garden listening to the roar of the crowd as the Cubs pound on the Rockies and achieve an 8-3 lead. This being the Cubs, the bullpen coughed up six runs in the eighth inning, yet uncharacteristically managed to come back and win it via Soriano's walk off single in the ninth. Fortunately, their fans stayed classy as ever and provided a brief respite from the agony when one took offense to Bob Howry's performance and drunkenly charged the mound. It was really the only thing that kept me from deliberately running in front of a cab. After another win last night, the Cubs have won five straight and are officially ruining my life.

Fortunately, the Cards were able to achieve some forward momentum last night in the form of a spry little rookie named Brendan Ryan. (Who I'm pretty sure is David Eckstein's 13 year-old brother.) He capped off a solid all around performance with his first big league home run in the 11th inning to win it 5-3. This is excellent news for me, as I don't think I could have stomached another "GO METS!!!" message from Shea last night. On a smaller scale, it was probably pretty cool for him, too. So, you know...good for him.

Anyhow, Anthony Reyes is looking to improve his sparkling 0-9 record tonight against Mr. Tom Glavine and I for one am thoroughly confident we have what it takes to completely blow it. If not, you know we'll at least give it our best shot. Here in Chicago, Big Z takes the mound for the finale against the Rockies and I sincerely hope he chokes on some pine tar or gets struck by lightening.

They Don't Call It US Cellular For Nothing

Leave it my snarky allies on the Southside to continue doing God's work. This is from an educational series of videos and articles created by the fictitious "Southside Chicago Board of Tourism." Designed to mock their ignorance, TSSCBOT covers topics as confounding as dining, transportation, legal tender and dialect by answering questions from Northsiders.

My favorite query is by Carolyn from Evanston. I once tried extending a hand to a Cubs fan and he just tried to pull my finger. Lesson learned.

Jim Hendry is a GENIUS!!!

This is the kind of thing that makes living amongst Cub fans worthwhile. I occasionally bust out laughing just THINKING about this video. The part where he wazzes out about Jason Marquis is one of the finer moments in foreign cinema. Or American cinema for that matter. Freakin' priceless.

Your Bragging Rights Aren't Honored Here, Missy!!

Being a St. Louis Cardinals fan in Chicago sucks. I understand I'm not making an earth shattering announcement here, but the fact remains that between the months of April and October my loyalties take a beating. I don't know if it's years of inadequacy that have generated such a general sense of bitterness and hostility or if it's merely the nature of the rivalry, but I continue to be amazed at how much my allegiance to the Cards is resented by the Northsiders. Cubs fans are PISSED. And rightly so. The last three years have seen their two most hated rivals claim back to back World Series Championships, while the crowning of the Red Sox in 2004 reversed the Curse of the Bambino and sharpened the focus on the nearly 100 year gap since the Cubs last championship. That SUCKS for them. However, generally speaking, I'm not an obnoxious and boisterous follower. I don't seek out public ridicule and scorn by professing my love for Albert Pujols outside the gates of Wrigley Field. I just want to be able to wear my Cardinals baseball cap and not have some jackass tell me St. Louis takes it in the Poo-holes. (I tell ya...these Cubs fans are witty!) Unprovoked, I don't talk a lot of shit. If there's one thing my dad taught me, it's that arrogance ALWAYS comes around to bite you in the ass. So no matter how tempted or provoked I get, I try to keep things civil. However, I've found that despite my best attempts at being a big person and the fact that there is no basis at all for their bravado, I am still mocked incessantly. The more the Cubs suck, the louder their fans seem to get. It gives me a headache.

Nevertheless, I certainly don't expect Cubs fans to take pity on me. We just won our tenth World Series Championship, the likes of which most living Cubs fans have never come close to experiencing. I take a great deal of pleasure in this, which I imagine is rather infuriating. I admit it. When I'm at Wrigley I cheer for the visiting team. Perhaps that makes me a terrible person, but COME ON! You really can't expect me to be neutral. And I know plenty of Cubs fans that gladly return the sentiment. Generally, if I can't enjoy a Cardinals win the next best thing is a Cubs loss. So I certainly expect to be cast under a veil of suspicion and reviled by the frenzied Chicago fan base. I'm an outsider. An enemy infiltrating their city and dirtying their Cubs blue landscape with my obnoxious Cardinal red. I'm an anti-Cub who's more then happy to point out and mock their shortcomings ever step of the way. But all things considered, I'm a harmless anti-Cub. I don't hate the team just to torment its fans. I hate them as a result of loving the Cardinals and live in this city merely by coincidence. I mean, trust me. I don't PREFER to surround myself with drunks in Carlos Zambrano jerseys that abhor my existence. I'm insanely jealous of all those people flailing around St. Louis like maniacs celebrating the World Series Championship in mutual delirious fandom. To celebrate winning game five I went to a party where one guy tried to wrestle a Cubs t-shirt over my head and another poured his beer on me. (And not in a "champagne in the locker room" kind of way.) GOOD TIMES!!!

Ironically, the abuse only serves to thicken my skin and solidify my devotion. However, I actually met people here convinced that once I'd been around long enough, the glow emanating from Chicago's Largest Beer Garden would woo me to the other side. This baffles me for several reasons. First, as a real baseball fan, you don't just change teams. Once a Cardinals fan, always a Cardinals fan. Secondly, it's not the same as moving to Denver and developing a passing interest in the Rockies because you live three blocks from Coors Field. It's the FREAKIN CUBS!! You cannot "become" a Cubs fan just by living in Chicago if you're a Cardinals fan. It goes against all laws of physics. It goes against all laws of morality! (Just for the record, I would be equally disgusted by a Cubs fan deciding to worship all things Albert Pujols. It's just not right.) Lastly, if I were to cultivate an interest in a new team based upon proximity, why would I pick not only the crappiest team in this city, but arguably in all of major league baseball? So much about this doesn't make sense to me. Maybe this is why they haven't won a World Series since 1908. These people are idiots.

But I digress. My point here is not to deride Cubs fans. On the contrary, I admire their blinding loyalty to an institution that has continually failed them year after year. I marvel at the sheer voracity of their belief every spring that "this is the year". As a result of living here, I have a lot of friends that are Cubs fans. I don't pretend to understand them, but I do respect them. Or at least I try until one of them tells me the Cardinals take it in the Poo-holes.