"Ok...call it."

Write it down: Wednesday, August 12, 2009. That is the day I officially bailed on the current edition of the Chicago Cubs. I know what you're thinking: "Suuuure, man. Whatever you say. Good luck with that."

Normally you might be right. I gotta tell you though; I'm spent. Too much aggravation. Too much lack of effort. Too much befuddlement. And I'm just talking about the manager. I have seen a lot of Cubs baseball throughout the years, but if this is the team that ends the 101 years of futility, I'll be more shocked than

when I saw Jamie Foxx on stage at the George Strait tribute.

"This Ain't Gonna Happen."

For those that doubt or are clinging to the false hope that the Cubs can still make a run; godspeed. Pick a reason - the NL Central is weak, Ramirez is coming back (maybe), Lilly and Zambrano are coming off the DL soon - whatever - they are all Weak. With a capital W. At the end of the day, this outfit just doesn't have it. And you know what? I'm glad. I cannot remember a time in my adult life where I have simply "had it" with a group of supposed professio

nals. It would be one thing if they just didn't get clutch hits. These guys don't hustle. They don't act like they care. They don't play with any sense of urgency. They aren't managed or coached particularly well. But that's just what they don't do. What about the stuff they do?

The relievers have an uncanny knack for letting the other teams' bats knock the bejesus out of their pitches. I am fairly certain that it is not a good sign when your closer has an affinity for throwing batting practice fastballs in games that actually count in the standings. After serving up last night's 12th inning tater to the almighty Ben Francisco (seriously, this Philly team is loaded with big time boppers and you give up the game changer to Ben Freaking Francisco?) Kevin Gregg padded his NL leading stat of most homers surrendered by a reliever with 11. Way to be, Kev. You might want change the prescription on your goggles. Gregger said he thinks

he might of been tipping his pitches last week in Florida. Meanwhile, his incompetence has fans tipping pitchers of ale all over Wrigleyville.

Gregger is not alone though. There is the Curious Case of Carlos Marmol. The man who once mystified opposing offenses now looks like Ray Charles trying to pitch during an earthquake. Gun-to-my-head, I'd trust Julio Castillo's control versus that of '09 Marmol. (My favorite Marmol moment from last night: After walking two batters and hitting another, he had the audacity to stare down home plate umpire Ron Kulpa on a borderline pitch - on a 3-0 count - to Ryan Howard. Then he continued his temper tantrum on his way to the dugout after he was lifted from the game. Right on, Carlos. It was that last pitch that did you in. Just The Man keeping you down.)

For those that insist that the Cubs lack of success is predicated on not being healthy or that they still have yet to "fire on all cylinders," its time for a reality check. They just don't pass The Eye Test. They play the game with a seemingly indifferent attitude that borders on arrogance. Case in point: Milton Bradley's "big whoop-dee-doo"-like comments throughout the year - during good times and bad - that make you want to tweak him in the nose and tell him to grow up. Or at least ask him to start contributing. (Oh wait, August has arrived and I see he's finally hitting. Did you see his HR stare down in the bottom of the 11th last night? That was awesome...except that the ball was caught on the warning track. Keep grinding though, Milty, I am sure you'll come around.) Add that to Zambrano's tired antics in between stints on the DL, Marmol's ridiculous aforementioned hissy fit, and one can tell that this isn't going to end well.

Oh yeah, and as if that wasn't enough, this team is not particularly talented at picking up (or even getting to) the baseball. Theriot is hitting his late season wall (a fun summer tradition that I look forward to annually), Soriano takes full weeks off in LF, and Bradley, well, is Bradley. Most nights I'd rather see Jon and Kate's 8 play defense over Lou's lineup du joir.

And what about our cocktail swilling front man? Surely The Skipper must be crawling out of his

skin. Surely Mt. Lou is getting ready to erupt! I mean, this is LOU PINIELLA for chrissakes!

The man who once tore 3rd base out of the ground and skipped it into left field in protest of a call, the man who used to leave his breakfast saliva on the front of many an umpire's uniform. He'll be chomping at the bit to tear into this underachieving crew, right?

Naw, not so much. In fact, Lou looks tired. Almost like his body is on the field, but his mind is in Key West. If I had to make the call, I think this is Sweet Lou's farewell season. He seems as blase'

as his team.

Sure there is more, but why beat a dead bear? The 2009 Chicago Cubs aren't worth it, folks. Nothing here suggests that anything is going to change. The questions you had in April are the same questions you have in August. What's another month-and-a-half going to fix? Its a mix of guys that doesn't work. Its money far from well spent. Its a team without an identity, a leader, a calling card, or often times a pulse.

That's why I am getting up from the table. No thanks, I've had enough. I am cashing out and going home with the little bit of sanity I have left. August 12, 2009. That's it. I gave at the office. No more room at the inn. See you next year. Later days!

Nope, I'm done.

At least I think I am.

***Special thanks to all those who tuned in to the radio show last week. The crew of the "Danny Mac Show" and The Score were extremely accommodating and made me feel like part of the team. If you heard the show and enjoyed it - I am glad. If you didn't enjoy it - to bad. If you didn't hear it, I hope they put the podcast up on their website at www.670thescore.com this week. My thanks to Mac and Spiegs as well. I hope to be back on soon.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Although I have been tinkering behind-the-scenes with the way I want to "re-invent" the blog, I wanted everyone to know that I will be on the radio with live thoughts this coming Friday, August 7th.

I will be sitting in the side car for "The Danny Mac Show" on The Score 670AM in Chicago. You out-of-towners or folks that cannot hear the show on your radios can listen on www.670thescore.com. Click on the "Listen Live" button and you are off to the races.

I hope to have cogent and entertaining thoughts - but no guarantees.

Hope you can listen and I will be sure and start up the posts - in earnest - again soon.

Thanks!

Vandy

Hendry's 0-For-09 The Real Story

I can already hear the eternally optimistic tones ringing out across the north side of Chicago: "There's plenty of season left!" "Wait until we're healthy!" "It's still early!" How supportive, the Cubbie faithful. It might actually be cute if it wasn't so ridiculous. But let us attempt to speak rationally here. 101 years of futility has only made folks increasingly testy. And impatient. And annoyed. And it's only June 3rd.

Maybe that is the only saving grace here - the calendar. With enough dates still undecided, the opportunities to right the S.S. Lou are still plentiful. But thinking rationally - as we are trying to do - isn't it conceivable that we will be listening to the same cries on July 3rd? August 3rd? The Cubs, as currently constructed, have numerous flaws - many of them potentially fatal. Pick your poison: The dust collecting on Aramis Ramirez's bats, the fall of the house of Derrek Lee, Geovany Soto and the Case of the Missing Offense, or a bullpen that has a nasty habit of not being able to get the opposing team out. All good candidates to be sure.

There is one abysmal average, however, that you won't find as you scroll through the morning stats online: Cub GM Jim Hendry is batting roughly .000 in 2009. He is like a Craps player that can't hit his point. Hell, he can't even set a point. He's stuck on the Pass line and rolling snake eyes. Virtually every move he has made to bring more talent to his two-time division winner has crapped out.

Don't believe me? Let's look at some mid-term grades for Principal Jim's Class of 2009:

Milton Bradley - 118 AB, .220 AVG, 5 HR, 14 RBI. "Congratulations, Mr. Bradley, you are at the head of the Delta pledge class." Just what you envisioned from your new clean-up hitter, right? Throw in the predictable muscle tweek or two as well as the emotions of a 3-year-old and his presence has been nothing short of pure joy! He is currently spending time arguing about how the world is out to get him and nursing his latest hamstring pull/hurt feelings.

Aaron Miles - 98 AB, .250 OBP, .204 AVG. Currently spending the first part of his summer on the DL. Remember, he was going to help fill the void vacated by Mark DeRosa's departure AND possibly lead off! (Go ahead, drink it all in Chicago.)

Kevin Gregg - 22.1 IP, 24 H, 13 ER, 5.24 ERA. You might want to try new glasses, Kev. Currently throwing batting practice fastballs during games that actually count. He is making Joe Borowski look like Dennis Eckersley. "Cub fans, give it up for your 2009 closer!"

Aaron Heilman - 23 IP, 23 H, 5.09 ERA, 16 BB, 0-for-3 in SVO. What is it with guys named Aaron? Wasn't he sore about not landing the 5th starter's gig after spring training? Hey here's an idea, Aaron: Find the same bus that drove Bobby Howry to the airport. Get on it.

A tired-but-nonetheless-true cliche' is that "the numbers don't lie." Principal Jim's 09'ers are failing. Miserably. They are not slumping; they are sucking tailpipe. Big difference. And please - don't use the uncertain ownership fiasco between King Zell and Bleacher Boy Ricketts to try and justify the underachieving. General Motors can get a bailout, but the Cubs GM cannot. All of the above moves were made before the season started, with nary a nasty smirk from Tribune owners or President Crane-ium. I am not going to be a hypocrite, either. I don't care that Hendry traded DeRosa (despite recent cries from the Faithful that he is a can't-miss, first ballot HOF'er,) nor that he failed to offer former poster boy Kerry Wood new paper. After consecutive NL Central titles with consecutive playoff flame outs, something needed to be done. Hendry took a chance and moved some pieces. Unfortunately, those pieces are lining up the North Siders to be checkmated.

Add this to the ongoing "should he or shouldn't he lead off" saga of Fonzie Soriano, the regression of the best WR in AAA Iowa - Jeff Samardzija, Carlos Marmol's inability to leap his mental hurdles and move into the closers' role, Carlos Zambrano's continued petulance, and it all points to danger on the Wrigleyville horizon.

How much starting pitching needs to be wasted before the coup d'etat occurs? Ted Lilly, Ryan Dempster, and the unsung/hard-luck Randy Wells can only keep the S.S. Lou afloat for so long. Sooner or later the 09'ers are going to have to do something, ANYTHING, to steer the ship to safe waters. If they don't, brace yourself for the iceberg.

So as you head to the ivy-covered oasis in the coming weeks and you stare in amazement at just how un-amazing this team is, don't shout insults at Big Z, make fun of The Gregger, or throw tissues at Uncle Milty. Give a strong glare up to whatever box Principal Jim is sitting. He's probably looking at the 1Q grades and wondering the same thing you are...Will the calendar have enough dates?

Ahhh...College!

So the party has been on hiatus for a month or so and I apologize. I imagine even Bernie Lomax's wild gigs in the Hamptons had to break up every now-and-then, so I hope you understand. But what better way to get the party re-started than the arrival of fall and the beginning of college season! Just sitting here thinking of Milwaukee and Marquette University...I can smell the burnt cow flesh from the tannery wafting over my dorm room at O'Donnell Hall. If you were lucky, the yeast flowing out of the old Pabst Brewery made its way up Wisconsin Ave with an aroma that said, "Kid, if you can make it through Logic 110 and Theater Appreciation, there is an icy cold beer or ten in your immediate future." If the two scents mixed, well, godspeed to you in the infirmary.

For a lot of my friends that I left in my past job, these weeks represent their maiden voyage to a land they think know everything about, but really have no clue. It can be explained 1,000 times by someone who has been through those glorious four (plus) years, but unless you have experienced it yourself, you are in for an all-out, no-holds barred, rip roaring adventure into the unknown. If you get it right, college is the craziest, greatest time you could ever imagine.

Yes, you will learn things - some of them even academic. But I'll venture a guess that you never thought you'd learn how long you could go without doing laundry, the absolute longest you can stay in bed before going to class, or how many soft-serve ice cream cones you can eat in a week. All of these are impressive feats to be sure, so do not dismiss them as irrelevant. In fact, this is EXACTLY the stuff that will remain with you for the rest of your life - much longer than anything you read in your over-priced textbooks.

College may be about a lot of things - but most importantly it is about self-discovery. Learning who you are, what kind of friends you surround yourself with, exploring interests, and learning to live on your own. At the end of which you earn a Bachelor's degree in Knowing Yourself. What could be more important or exciting? With so much to digest, I am happy to report that I have helped make it easier for you to acclimate. Without further ado, I give you The Kid's Five Keys To Freshman Year, and dedicate it to those who have left the nest to embark on the wildest ride since Mr. Toad bought real estate at Disneyworld.

1) No 8:00am classes. Never. If you are registered for one right now - change it. Trust me. Hey, I know what you were thinking: "I've been going to class earlier than that for twelve years - no big deal. In fact, I can wake up at 7:30, eat, and still make it to Psych or Calculus on time. Plus, I'll be happy to be done with it by 9:00am." Ahh...so young and so misguided. This is no direct reflection on you, Ms. Early Riser, but your inexperience in the social side of collegiate life is hugely at play here. I know you don't think you are going to deliberately miss classes, but I am here to tell you that it is a 100% certainty. Absenteeism is more likely than Lindsay Lohan heading back to rehab, gang. And it has much higher ceiling at 8:00am than at 10:00 or 11:00. Even then its iffy....

2) Don't be "the Party Room." Sure, everyone loves the room where there is action 24/7, the PS3 is hooked up and the music is cranked. You will love it too, unless of course these activities are taking place in YOUR dorm room. Dudes, you need your quiet time. There will be plenty of other moments in your college career where you will have all of the camaraderie you need. Don't lend out your place of sleep to others for recreation. I still have visions of "Dad," our party room host who's door was never locked and tv never off. Games of Sega NHL '96 were ongoing, often lasting well into the Wisconsin night. Dad sleeping in the corner, seemingly oblivious to the late-nighters who were playing games as if they were actually collecting the salaries of their Madden heroes. Dad, the consummate host. Dad, who eventually had to go part-time because he was failing out... Remember, it is always better to visit than to host. Always.

3) End the High School Relationship. In the words of the great Phil Knight: Just Do It. Sorry to break this to you, but it ain't gonna work out. Again, you are underestimating the college social experience, and quite frankly, it is borderline disrespectful. Don't mess with the college gods, folks. There is a force at work here greater than any of you can possibly fathom. It only asks for the occasional sacrifice (usually your dignity is involved) but if you can throw it an early bone and bag the high school BF/GF; don't fight it. Fact: .01% of high school relationships actually "make it"...and usually its because the couple either goes to the same college or somebody transfers because they can't handle being apart. Either of which is decidedly lame, btw. Ending a long distance college relationship is easier than ripping off a band aid, so suck it up and rip away. Either way, you are making out with somebody else this weekend. Why worry? Death, taxes, and the failed high school relationship. I should write a book...or a blog.

4) You Are In College, Remember. Anybody ever go to a private high school? On the first week of orientation, the Dean says something REAL profound like, "Take a look to your left. Take a look to your right. One of you will not be here in four years." Thanks, big guy, but your Gestapo techniques won't work here. You can't break me! (Sorry...back to the column.) It never fails - somebody you know and probably like won't make it past the first semester. Somebody else won't make it back for sophomore year. Quite frankly, some folks can't handle their new-found freedom. One guy likes beer to much. A girl on your floor watches "Days Of Our Lives" instead of going to Chem class...and fails out of school despite the fact that she can detail every abduction attempt Stefano has made on Marlena. Make a reasonable effort to go to class. College teachers don't ask that much of you, just that you show up occasionally. If you can actually parlay some attendance figures with studying, you'll make your folks proud, culminating with them taking you and your friends to dinner on Parent's Weekend. And who doesn't love free food?! It is one of The Kid's Keys To College Survival, which is another entry for another time. Just get a reasonable GPA and earn your freshman fifteen.

5) There is never, ever, a good reason to not go out. College is temporary, kids. What an out-and-out tragedy it would be to look back on your years at university and say, "I should've met Jack at the bar to watch Monday Night Football" or "Why, WHY didn't I go over to the Jen's room to watch 90210?" (Editor's Note: Dear lord, I cannot even begin to tell you how GD excited I am for the arrival of this CW gem. I have been patiently waiting for a show to come back and reclaim the high school/college drama! This show MUST NOT FAIL!) Anyway, my intent is not to corrupt your judgement. If you have a mid-term; study for it. If you have a presentation; get it done. If somebody asks you to go out for a beer or two on a random Tuesday in February; put on your jacket* and get over to the campus ale house. Common misconception: you must get pie-eyed loaded to enjoy yourself when you go out. I mean, often times this helps, but sometimes a beer or two will do just fine, thanks. The people that do not fully comprehend this end up being the casualties we discussed in Key #4.

Sure there are more thoughts, nuggets, tidbits, and pearls of wisdom to share. But we have time. For now, don't sweat the petty stuff, don't pet the sweaty stuff, and make sure your roommate is on board with at least three of the above Keys. If not, threaten to make your room the Party Room.

Good luck.

Arm-Chair Snobbery

There are a few things that bug me. Many of these are fairly common: a slow driver in the left-hand lane, a tiny gob of toothpaste in the sink, deliberate public belching, and people who start sentences with, "No offense, but..." Yet one issue that never fails to annoy This Guy are the legions of folks who fancy themselves music aficionados. I am not talking about the people who love, study, and follow music. I speak of those who gravitate to a band or an artist or a genre and feel the need to go all "amatuer music critic" on the rest of us.

You know the type, don't you? The kind of person who frowns on the norm. The kind of person who tells you that not only are you wrong for thinking "Sister Christian" is Night Ranger's best tune, but insistent that they have 12 other songs that trump it (none of which you have ever heard of.) I am talking about someone like College Caddy Guy.

Back in the summer of 1987, I looped in the summertime. One morning I was sitting around the caddy shack wasting time with a fellow 13-year-old, talking about how "With or Without You" was an awesome song, when College Caddy Guy shot us an arrogant "I am so above these youngsters but let me take this moment to publicly scorn them" glance. He proceeded to tell us that he had been listening to U2 for years and that The Joshua Tree was garbage, etc etc. Keep in mind this conversation took place in 1987 - the summer that Tree was released and U2 stormed into the conscience of mainstream America. "I don't even own that album yet," College Caddy Guy boasted, as if either my gold-shirted buddy or I cared. "I might not even pick it up." While the rest of the details are fuzzy, I remember him rattling (but not necessarily humming) off his favorite deep-cut U2 tunes, probably from War or Boy and familiar to only the die-hards.

Look, if you don't like the tunes - fine. But don't attempt to big-time me just to flex your self-perceived musical muscle. Never mind that The Joshua Tree went on to crazy commercial and critical success or that it can hold its own with some of the great albums of our time - that really isn't the point. The point is - College Caddy Guy is a goober. His snobbery is unfounded and his criticisms unwanted. If I wanted advice on what to listen to, I'd take the time to read Jim DeRogotis or Greg Kot, not some dude who spends his summers bathed in sunscreen, handing rich old men their putters. He's not unlike like the millions of goobers out there who say owning an artist's Greatest Hits compilation immediately makes your opinions on music moot. Where do they get off? As if purchasing The Eagles Greatest Hits, Volume One makes you a poser. Or that liking an artist's most commercially popular release disqualifies you from being a serious musical savant. "Oh. You WOULD like Synchronicity. That's so predictable." This happens a lot in college. You get the uber-goobers who see that you have Pearl Jam's Ten in your collection and assume you are a sound sheep. Why? Because I think "Even Flow" is a killer tune - like half the world does?!

I guess what I am getting at is this: Fondness for obscure or non-Top 40 bands does not give one a license to be a musical jagoff. Enjoy whatever your little heart desires. Isn't that the point of music, anyway - to provide each of us with a venue for escapism? In what other walk of life can you find so many different interests, sounds, personalities, emotions, and insights? One man's Kanye is another man's Boy George. Stillwater's Russell Hammond once stated plainly, "I dig music." Well, dammit Russell, so do I! I just don't dig the people who lecture me on it.

As sitcom father supreme Stephen Keaton said, "When I go out of town I expect a few mishaps. A broken glass, spilt milk on the rug...there was a KANGAROO in my living room." I, too, expect to encounter certain things that annoy me along the road of life. Consider music snobs my kangaroo. And they can feel free to hop-hop-hop their obnoxious asses out of my living room.

Join the Party

So I am going to do this. I am finally going to sit down and try and find a publishing home for the daily thoughts that jingle around my sizable head. Fun? Daunting? Potential Snooze-Fest? All of the above! So join the party. Bring a bottle of cynicism or a case of opinions. To be quite honest - I do care what you think. I mean it may not be of life-or-death significance to me, but I thrive on feedback.

What to expect? Well, if you are looking for answers to some of life's deepest mysteries, you are most definitely in the wrong place. I'd say you'll find the proper mix of daily head-scratchers, sprinkled with some pop culture, a few movie and TV references, and of course sports. Call it typical male buffoonery, but there will be an occasional thought on the games people play. It is who I am. Oh yeah...and some thoughts on life as I know it. That will be the fun part.

Bottom line: you cannot overstay your welcome at this shindig. Call it as you see it. If the black background is to depressing - let me know. If I am whining incessantly - call me out. If you disapprove of my assertion that Welch's grape soda is the quintessential road trip beverage - shout it from the heavens!

So the party begins when you arrive. I have no real ground rules, except that we remember the immortal (and quite timely) words of the dearly-departed Rufus, "Be excellent to each other." (Really? Is that how the "WELCOME" post is actually going to end? With a lame Bill and Ted quote?) See, I told you this would be fun!

Enjoy.