And Counting

Thank You, I'm Sorry

2011-03-26T17:28:00.000-05:00

Blast off.

The title of this post says all I really need to say. But I almost always say more than that, so here goes.

Thank you for reading. If this is the only post you've ever read or started to read, I appreciate the effort it takes to force your eyes over these words I choose and to process the nonsense they represent. I try to make it fun and worthwhile, but you have no guarantees. You entrusted some amount of time and mental energy to me, and I want you to know I don't take it lightly. I appreciate everyone who makes the questionable decision to read what I write. I respect the people who don't.

So to those of you who have followed along since the beginning (or since just now) you have my deepest gratitude. And I'm sorry for wasting your time. That's a flimsy apology, really. I enjoy a little time wasting. I guess I try to get people to stop and look around once in awhile so they don't miss life. (I think Ferris is a righteous dude.) But I'm still kind of sorry for wasting so much of your time. Even if it's only been the last couple minutes. There are approximately 36 trillion ways you could have better spent your time than reading this blog about the Cubs.

Honestly, it's bad enough we follow this team, isn't it? The Cubs appreciate our allegiance probably in much the same way as I appreciate yours. They're grateful to have so many fans, I'm sure of it. But they may also feel compelled to apologize for the end product.

That's how I feel, anyway. I can't thank you enough for following along. I wish I had done better. I wish the Cubs had done better. But I'm a fool for expecting either.

Self-deprecating realism aside, I'm proud of this blog. I'm happy with how a lot of things turned out. I've enjoyed getting to read the thoughts of the people who expressed them here, on twitter, on facebook, and in various places like that alley behind the Addison El station. I'm glad I stuck with it as long as I did. I have made myself laugh a few times and forced myself to think at least twice. I have a pretty good idea a few people have laughed and thought along with me, and it would be an insult to them if I weren't at least a little proud of that.

And as much as I give Cubs fans a hard time, I admire the poor decision making and dreamy hopefulness that brings anyone to a point of Cub-related fanaticism. I like Cubs fans. I rarely agree with them about everything, but I don't really agree with anybody about everything. I enjoy disagreeing with people. Disagreement is what drives me to learn. And learning is pretty awesome. I like being around people who are willing to argue with me. But all the same, I'm glad we can agree on our desire to see the Cubs win.

So if you're a Cubs fan and you're reading this, I'm doubly indebted to you. I wish I had more time to make you glad to have stumbled upon these words of mine (and to offer you some consolation for the disappointment of loving the Chicago National League ballclub).

Fortunately, I do have more time. While I am sad to be leaving the confines of And Counting, I'm completely excited about ObstructedView.net. I'll be writing at least as much if not for in the new location, and I can't tell you how honored I am to be sharing the space with Tim, David, and Jeff, at least not without going into an embarrassing awkwardness I'd rather not breach.

So thank you for reading. I'm sorry this had to happen to you. I hope it happens many more times at Obstructed View.

Go Cubs.

Oh My DeRosa . . .

2011-03-26T09:07:00.000-05:00

Obstructed View: It's Elemental

2011-03-26T00:31:00.001-05:00

It Was Either This or Soup

2011-03-25T15:45:00.000-05:00

The great thing about obstructedview.net is that we're all totally different.

Oh So Pretty

2011-03-25T14:13:00.001-05:00

I should probably stop.

Obstructed Road

2011-03-25T11:26:00.000-05:00

Impressive

2011-03-25T09:06:00.000-05:00

We see things differently.

It's Okay to Idolize Us

2011-03-24T11:48:00.001-05:00

Seacrest out in 3, 2, 1 . . .

(By the way, if you like Idol or hilarity, you should check out my other collaborative work, American Idol recaps with the epically talented Beth of I Should Be Folding Laundry fame. Diversify, people.)

Cubbie Avengers, Assemble!

2011-03-23T09:24:00.002-05:00

obstructedview.net, coming March 27

Recounting: the Way, Way Back Machine Heads to 2003

2011-03-21T16:55:00.000-05:00

Long before this blog got started, I ran a daily trivia email that was as close to a blog as anything could be without taking on that exact form. I later turned it into a trivia blog that, while not formally frozen in carbonite like this one is about to be, has gone effectively dormant for quite awhile. I didn't usually talk much about sports, but after the Cubs got ever so close to World Series glory in 2003 only to fall short, I couldn't help but talk about it. I really couldn't remember what I said, though, until I just dug through the archives of a backed up Outlook file. Some of it I'm proud of, some of it is facepalm fodder. But for posterity's sake, here you go (and feel free to take a stab at the question . . . just don't cheat):

Well, the Cubs season is over, so here are a few things everyone should remember, just to keep a proper perspective on things.

1. Baseball's purpose is to entertain, thrill, delight, inspire, unite, and distract us from the less desirable moments of life. If you're a Cub fan who feels this season/postseason has failed to do that because they lost, reflect on what a joy this season has been. If you hate baseball, laugh at me.

2. If you're team gets derailed by a bespectacled, headphoned, not-even-drunk fan, they're clearly not good enough to be in the World Series.

3. If you seek to harm another individual in any way (verbal, physical, any other al words you can think of) because of a baseball game, you are the biggest loser there is.

4. The Marlins are a better team than the Cubs. This one is painful but true. Let's face it, the Marlins had a better record than the Cubs. They have more speed, more consistent hitting ability, a more solid defense, and a not-too-shabby pitching staff. They really are the most complete team in the National League. Everyone thought the Cubs got a break because the Marlins beat the Giants, but what they fail to consider is . . . the Marlins beat the Giants because they were better than the Giants. And for the last two-thirds of the season, they were better than anybody in baseball.

5. The Cubs didn't choke. It's not a curse to lose when you're not that good. I defy anyone to name one player on the Cubs team who underperformed. You can't, because the Cubs played about as well as they can play and still lost. That's not choking. That's getting beat. Get over it.

6. Wait till next year actually means something this year. Didn't we learn anything, people? The Cubs have a manager that always wins and everybody wants to play for, a pitching staff that is only getting better, and a front office who actually seems interested in bringing in good talent. The Cubs were awful last year. They were good this year. Next year actually has promise!

7. It still hurts, though, doesn't it?

Anyway, here's today's trivia:

Cher, Ronald Reagan, Elizabeth Taylor, Goldie Hawn, Walter Matthau, Carrie Fisher, Dick Vitale, and Jack Lemmon all had their lives saved by what groundbreaking procedure?

Recounting: The 163-mph Hoax Is About to Turn 26

2011-03-18T11:54:00.000-05:00

This was one of my favorite posts I ever wrote. It's not even really about the Cubs. But since April Fools' Day is almost upon us (it's Opening Day, appropriately enough), I thought I'd break it out in anticipation (and awareness that I won't be posting here when that day rolls around).

One barefoot, boot-clad hurler put one by us in unforgettable fashion.

I'll never forget the cool April evening when my dad came to dinner carrying an issue of Sports Illustrated. That was enough right there, you understand. It really didn't matter what came next from his lips. My jaw hit the table when I saw that strange concoction of contradictions before me: my dad, an open issue of SI in his hand, and a look of transported glee on his face. This. Did not. Compute.

Two things you have to understand about my dad: 1) He hates sports. He likes to listen to Ron Santo and Pat Hughes on the radio because he loves radio and the hilarious interplay that unfolds between the pitches. He used to like to go to baseball games in Cleveland (near where my mom's family lived) and hockey games in Detroit (where he grew up) because he enjoyed strolling the arenas and watching fights break out in the stands. He even liked coming to watch me play baseball or even bringing me and my siblings to Wrigley, because he loves me. But make no mistake—my dad hates sports. 2) He's a professional reader. He is to oral interpretation what Vin Scully is to baseball play-by-play. For almost my whole life he's been the host of the internationally syndicated Music thru the Night, which (if my numbers aren't lying to me) is the top-rated late-night radio program in Chicago. My point is, the man can read a story. And when he finds a story he likes, you can be pretty sure that he will read it to you until you like it even more.

It was this second trait that so obviously won out that night, and my curiosity was piqued as to why a sports journal would, for once, trigger my father's passion for storytelling. He sat down, donned his reading glasses, quieted the room with his eyes (no small feat with six kids huddled around the table), and said in his deep yet gleefully quivering radio voice: "Listen . . . to . . . thissssss."

He began with the headline and subhead: "The Curious Case Of Sidd Finch. He's a pitcher, part yogi and part recluse. Impressively liberated from our opulent life-style, Sidd's deciding about yoga—and his future in baseball."

Okay. My dad was reading me a story about baseball. Or Yogi Bear. I wasn't sure, but either way, he had my attention.

The secret cannot be kept much longer. Questions are being asked, and sooner rather than later the New York Mets management will have to produce a statement. It may have started unraveling in St. Petersburg, Fla. two weeks ago, on March 14, to be exact, when Mel Stottlemyre, the Met pitching coach, walked over to the 40-odd Met players doing their morning calisthenics at the Payson Field Complex not far from the Gulf of Mexico, a solitary figure among the pulsation of jumping jacks, and motioned three Mets to step out of the exercise. The three, all good prospects, were John Christensen, a 24-year-old outfielder; Dave Cochrane, a spare but muscular switch-hitting third baseman; and Lenny Dykstra, a swift centerfielder who may be the Mets' lead-off man of the future.

The Mets? If my nine-going-on-ten brain could have manufactured a WTF thought bubble, it surely would have done so. The 1985 baseball season was just beginning. (Incidentally, the NCAA men's basketball championship was played later that night. I put a dime down on Villanova. That's not Vegas parlance, either. I bet my mom, the true sports lover in the family, ten cents Villanova would beat Georgetown. She called me crazy, but I won ten cents and the faulty belief that I could predict sporting events.) The heartbreak of '84 was still fresh in my mind, and I had become all too familiar with the history of Cub collapses that predated my foolish allegiance to the only baseball team I'll ever love. The Mets, I knew, were nothing short of pure, black-cat evil. If this story was about the Mets, I wanted no part in its horror.

"Wait a minute, now listen!" my dad assured me, noticing my visible disgust and withdrawal. He read on, setting up the story of how each Met batsman stepped into a canvas enclosure, obscured from the curious eyes of the media. Out stepped a gangling, awkward clown of a pitcher with a hiking boot on his right foot and not so much as a sock on his left. Every hitter just watched, or tried to, as the pitches zoomed by in furious blurs of white, ending with a musket-like pop of the catcher's mitt and an agonized whelp of pain from behind the catcher's clenched teeth.

Our dinner sat there losing steam as my dad did quite the opposite, reading on in a crescendo of uncharacteristic baseball fervor:

The phenomenon the three young batters faced, and about whom only [reserve catcher Ronn] Reynolds, Stottlemyre and a few members of the Mets' front office know, is a 28-year-old, somewhat eccentric mystic named Hayden (Sidd) Finch. He may well change the course of baseball history. On St. Patrick's Day, to make sure they were not all victims of a crazy hallucination, the Mets brought in a radar gun to measure the speed of Finch's fastball. The model used was a JUGS Supergun II. It looks like a black space gun with a big snout, weighs about five pounds and is usually pointed at the pitcher from behind the catcher. A glass plate in the back of the gun shows the pitch's velocity—accurate, so the manufacturer claims, to within plus or minus 1 mph. The figure at the top of the gauge is 200 mph. The fastest projectile ever measured by the JUGS (which is named after the oldtimer's descriptive—the "jug-handled" curveball) was a Roscoe Tanner serve that registered 153 mph. The highest number that the JUGS had ever turned for a baseball was 103 mph, which it did, curiously, twice on one day, July 11, at the 1978 All-Star game when both Goose Gossage and Nolan Ryan threw the ball at that speed. On March 17, the gun was handled by Stottlemyre. He heard the pop of the ball in Reynolds's mitt and the little squeak of pain from the catcher. Then the astonishing figure 168 appeared on the glass plate. Stottlemyre remembers whistling in amazement, and then he heard Reynolds say, "Don't tell me, Mel, I don't want to know...."

My dad read the whole article, every word, but I had lost my appetite both for the hamburger and potato casserole and for the sad tale of an unhittable pitcher ensnared in the dastardly clutches of the New York Metropolitans. My dad kept reading the account of the mystic hurler's idiosyncrasies and peccadilloes, and the off chance that his reclusive nature would prevent him from ever joining the official ranks of Major League Baseball. But all I could think of were the ramifications this development would bring to bear on my Cubs.

Hope escaped from my soul like air from a slow-leaking balloon. No, I thought, this can't happen. This mustn't happen.

And it didn't. A couple of weeks later during a 10:00 newscast, during which my dad was already asleep . . . and I probably should have been as well, the glorious truth came to light. The story was a hoax, published on April 1, 1985, and crafted with wicked mastery by the late, great George Plimpton. The giveaway had been hiding all along, like some balloon boy in his wacko parent's garage, in the subhead on the very first page. The lead-in, "He's a pitcher, part yogi and part recluse. Impressively liberated from our opulent life-style, Sidd's deciding about yoga," formed an acrostic greeting welcoming all fools to enter gullibly in. Happy April Fool's Day.

I was delighted. Not only were the Mets brought back down to this planet, but my dad's excitement had been for naught. At first I was excited to tell him how wrong he was, but then whatever form of ill-developed compassion I had within me took over. I didn't want to make a fool out of my dad. I didn't think he was foolish. I thought he was cool. He had taken an interest in baseball, or at least the part of it that he could get excited about, and imparted it to the whole family. And, indirectly at least, he was on the news! The story he read to us and our collective bamboozlement had become a small part of a national hoax. What did it matter that Sidd Finch was fake? The moment was real.

My dad wasn't big on throwing the ball around, obviously. But I don't regret for an instant that he read me a story instead of throwing me a fastball. That's who my dad is, a guy who sits amazed by the human element of baseball and completely disinterested in the baseball part of it. I would take that memory and the thousands of other ones like it over 100 games of catch.

No fooling.

Unfinished posts: Money from the Sky

2011-03-14T16:24:00.001-05:00

As the countdown to March 27 rolls on, whereupon obstructedview.net will unleash its discredited fury on Cubdom, I thought I'd do a little housekeeping by finishing posts I had started and left unfinished. And by "some," I mean, "at least one." I'll probably post a favorite or two (as ACB and Aisle 424 are doing) and maybe some posts I wish I'd written. But for now, since the NFL has chosen to test the work stoppage waters, it seemed like a good time to dust off and finish up this post originally scheduled as a Day-Off Reflection in 2010.

At Shea Stadium on opening day in 1995, three fans wearing shirts that read, "GREED," tossed dollar bills onto the field then gathered near second base, clenched fists raised in protest. Baseball had returned after the worst sports work stoppage of my lifetime, the strike that cost 1994 its World Series.

One image sticks with me from that year: Shawon Dunston, sitting in the dugout, arms folded across his knees and head bowed in disbelief. It was the last game of the year, one that had already been drained of any hope of being The Year for Dunston and the Cubs and their fans. But you could see how it affected the O-Meter man. He was sad. He was angry. He was not going to be playing the game he loved because his fellow players and the MLB owners couldn't agree on how the proceeds should be distributed.

Some people blamed the greedy players. Some people (myself included) blamed the greedy owners. I was mostly just greedy for baseball.

So in 1995, I attended my very first Cubs home opener. The Cubs gave away free magnet schedules. The fans gave a whole lot of them back. You see, the thing about magnetic schedules is that those suckers have serious aerodynamic efficiency about them. One fan from the upper deck managed to hit home plate umpire Mark Hirschbeck with one. (I don't know who the home plate umpire is, but I'm trying to finish up a year-old post on a dying blog, so I'm too lazy to look it up. And yes, I don't know for sure it came from the upper deck, but doesn't that make the story more interesting?)

It was dumb of the fans to throw those schedules, but not nearly as dumb as it was for the team to say, "We understand you're angry over the strike, so to make it up to you, we'd like you to have some projectiles. Enjoy."

So on this or any other day when I'm unable to enjoy a Cubs game or baseball of any kind, it seems extra stupid to intentionally avoid playing baseball when there's an opportunity to play it. Especially when, as Shawon clearly displayed, the players want to play as intensely as the spectators want to watch. I'm sure the owners don't object to making money whilst playing real-life fantasy baseball, either.

Get along, people. Coalesce. Stop screwing over each other. Be greedy for baseball.

Sammy's Skin

2011-03-13T13:09:00.001-05:00

I thought this wasn't supposed to matter. Sammy Sosa hit 545 home runs in a Cubs uniform. Some people hate him because of his boom box. Some people hate him for cheating with a corked bat and a chemically altered physique. Some people hate him for caring more about putting on a show than being a good teammate. Some people hate him because it's fashionable.

Now Sammy Sosa's skin is lighter than it used to be. I understand neither why that's funny nor why anyone cares. But apparently people do.

Never mind the fact he was really good at baseball. Never mind the fact that he restored enthusiasm in baseball not only in Chicago but also in North America. Never mind that while he played with the Cubs he paid very little effort into anything other than being prepared to play baseball well and to entertain the fans who watched him.

But his skin is lighter now. So . . . LMFAO.

Counting Down

2011-03-09T19:49:00.001-06:00

When I started this blog two years ago, I was an idiot. The Cubs had been bounced from the playoffs for the second consecutive year via their second consecutive sweep at the hands of an NL West team. But the Cubs had also been to the playoffs for two consecutive years. And on paper, in the offseason between 2008 and 2009, the Cubs had improved.

I was already blogging about other stuff, but mostly on a personal basis ~~for the benefit~~ to the detriment of people who knew me personally. Blogging about the Cubs, I figured, would be a chance to reach people who shared my particular dysfunction of liking the least successful sports franchise of the last century. But it didn't feel like that stupid of an inclination at the time. I thought I'd be blogging about The Year.

And if by The Year I meant, "the most frustrating winning season in Cubs history," then I was right. But that's not what I meant.

Now that I've had a chance to chronicle the Cubs for two seasons that weren't particularly enjoyable, I can confidently say that I'm still an idiot. But I've learned some things.

I've learned that I like you. If you're reading, I like you. I can't help you, but I like you.

I've learned not to count on the World Series.

I've learned when to quit. Well . . . kind of.

The life of And Counting as an active Cubs blog is coming to a close over the next week or two. I'm counting down instead of counting up. And by the time the season starts, you can expect to see this page go unchanged for quite some time.

BUT . . .

You aren't quite rid of me yet. If you've been paying attention to Another Cubs Blog, you know mb21 is bringing that fine Cubs shrine of discreditation to a close as well so he can start up something new with berselius and a couple other Cubs bloggers. I'm proud and honored to be an Other. [UPDATE: so is Tim.]

I'll have a few more posts to throw out here before it's all said and done, but I just wanted to give you ~~all~~ both the opportunity to count down with me. And thanks for reading. I appreciate it more than you know. Okay, I appreciate it a lot. Now you know. See you in another life, brotha.

Random Acts of Cubness

2011-03-07T23:38:00.000-06:00

Marlon Byrd and Victor Conte still having a working relationship should change people's impressions of Victor Conte.

Geovany Soto is going to get on base and hit the baseball hard.

Chicago Code isn't a very good show, but I'll probably still watch it forever.

And while I'm talking about it, the fictional White Sox fan cop called Cubs fan cop "Ron Santo" for saying he preferred 12-inch softball to 16-inch softball. But Ronnie played 16-inch softball. So I guess the White Sox cop fan's character is pretty realistic.

Why did the mother pig kick the three little pigs out to go build their own houses? They're little pigs.

I still miss Ron Santo.

Starlin Castro is going to be exciting to watch play baseball.

Also: errors shmerrors.

Tyler Colvin is probably better than I think.

Spring training still means nothing.

Randy Wells is in the starting rotation. He's in.

Carlos Silva has something to prove. I hope for his sake he's at least as good at proving things as Matt Damon was in Good Will Hunting.

Also, Carlos, if Andrew Cashner asks you if you like apples, don't answer.

Kerry Wood is a Chicago Cub.

Mark Prior is a New York Yankee. His stat line so far in spring training, which, I know, means nothing, says he wants to remain a New York Yankee.

ERA: 0.00, 3 G, 3.0 IP, 1 H, O R, 1 BB, 4 SO, WHIP 0.67

I'm pretty happy about Kerry and Mark.

This Cubs team is not going to surprise a lot of people because too many people are saying they're going to surprise a lot of people. You people suck at surprises.

Mike Quade is an interesting fellow.

April 1 can't get here soon enough.

What to do amidst the NL craziness

2011-02-23T19:48:00.000-06:00

Honestly, I don't know what to write about. Someone pooped where Dusty stood. I don't want to write about that.

Adam Wainright is hurt. I don't want to write about that.

People were happy or less than gracious upon finding out Adam Wainwright was hurt. I don't want to write about that.

The NL Central is probably not going to be very good. I don't really want to write about that.

This makes me wish baseball would realign. Completely. I already wrote about that.

So if you want, go read about it.

First, I tried to point out how 3-division leagues make baseball kind of suck.

Then I proposed a realignment plan.

I stand behind all of this still today. Good day. And please, no one poop in the dugout.

Marlon Byrd Promises Cubs Will Combust

2011-02-22T14:53:00.001-06:00

Guns don't kill people . . . but I'm
not arguing with Marlon's.

I'm not the one to turn to for a pep talk on the Cubs' chances in 20!! (double exclamation points to the contrary). If I start talking about the Cubs contending this year, it's because I'm blatantly choosing to ignore the information I have at my disposal. No amount of data can predict with absolute certainty what the Cubs will accomplish this season. But I think a postseason appearance in !! is entirely improbable. I won't begrudge anyone their loftier predictions, I just won't tend to agree with them on an intellectual level.

But if you want that pep talk, go to Marlon Byrd. If you can't set up a personal appointment, go to his blog. He believes the Cubs are going to explode.

I won't argue (although Carlos Zambrano promises he won't explode). I really hope he's right. I can't rule out that he's right. There's no harm in believing the Cubs will catch the world (or at least the NL Central) by surprise. I'm just not ready to invest the energy to preach that sermon.

I will say that Marlon Byrd is exactly the guy I want delivering that message. He is a man of enthusiasm. A man of positivity. A man with pretty freaking huge arms. I'm glad he's on the team, and I'm ready to start watching him play real baseball.

First spring training game is this Sunday. Marlon's pep talk has definitely worked on me to some extent:

The guys we have -- there's not excitement on MLB Network, there's not excitement on Baseball Tonight. That excitement is Greinke and Marcum with the Brewers and Berkman going to St. Louis and the Reds signing extensions to the young guys who are going to turn into big dogs. We're going to fly under the radar and keep that excitement bottled up and once April 1 comes, we're going to explode.

I share Marlon's excitement. Just not his optimism.

Spring Training!!!!!

2011-02-21T09:18:00.000-06:00

How do I feel about Cubs Spring Training being underway in Mesa? Here's the Answer:

Should the Cubs Try to Sign Albert Pujols? The Insiders Answer.

2011-02-17T08:30:00.000-06:00

The question is simple. Should the Cubs try to acquire Albert Pujols in light of the negotiating deadline in his rear-view mirror? He's reportedly asking for something in the neighborhood of $300 million over 10 years. That's a really nice neighborhood. Anyway, I asked this question to a group of Cubs insiders to get their opinions, and here are their answers:

Carrie Muskat, cubs.com: Pujols is under contract with the Cardinals. Making an offer now would be tampering.

Paul Sullivan, Chicago Tribune: Yeah, the Cubs need to give $30-million contracts to more old guys.

Phil Rogers, Chicago Tribune: Only if they can sign Tony LaRussa as well and trade the Wrigley Building for the Gateway Arch. But it's unclear whether St. Louis would go for that.

Rick Morrissey, Chicago Sun-Times: I'll answer that question with another question: would you trade Flintstone vitamins for anabolic steroids? Would you plant an old, overripe watermelon in the ground and use a falsified birth certificate for fertilizer? Do you read my column instead of prescription drug warning labels? I'm not saying he's juicing and lying about his age and doomed to suck. I'm just saying.

Rick Reilly, ESPN: Signing Albert Pujols to a $300 million contract would be riskier than tightroping across the Grand Canyon on the final thread of talent still remaining in Alfonso Soriano's career.

Bruce Levine, ESPN Chicago: Should they sign the best player in baseball? Of course. But can they? The last I heard, the Ricketts family had to ask to borrow money just to clean the bathrooms at Wrigley.

Judd Sirott, WGN Radio: OF COURSE THEY SHOULD! HE'S A DIFFERENCE MAKER! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO SHOUT ABOUT WHAT KOYIE FREAKING HILL IS DOING ON THE FIELD? THIS ISN'T AS EASY AS IT SOUNDS. I NEED SOMEONE TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING GREAT TO KEEP THIS VOLUME UP FOR MUCH LONGER.

Steve Rosenbloom, Chicago Tribune: Do the Cubs need another overpaid diva from another country? The question answers itself.

David Kaplan, WGN Radio: Albert Pujols is the best in the business. If you have a shot to bring him to the North Side, you take it. I want a World Series for the Cubs as much as anybody, and no one can ensure that that happens better than Jose Alberto Pujols. And when Prince Albert hoists the World Series trophy in the parade through Wrigleyville, and he needs a new best friend to share the moment with? I'll be there.

Editor's note: the following contributors did not return requests for comments. Answers were supplied on their behalf: Carrie Muskat, Paul Sullivan, Phil Rogers, Rick Morrissey, Rick Reilly, Bruce Levine, Judd Sirott, Steve Rosenbloom, David Kaplan

103 Things That Won't Happen in 2011 (but I'll hope for anyway)

2011-02-16T10:20:00.000-06:00

It has been 102 years, 4 months, and 2 days since the Cubs last won the World Series. I round up to 103 years because that's the minimum amount of time we can expect to have elapsed between Series-clinching wins for the Cubs. Some people don't like that approach. This keeps me up at night. That's not the point.

Yes, that's a gang symbol. North Side!

The point is it's been a long wait. The intersection of realistic people and people who expect the Cubs to win the World Series this year is the empty set. And at this point, I don't care. As the late Ethan Hawke once said when asked which of his movie's soundtracks most exceeded the film in terms of quality, critical reception, and revenue generation, "Reality Bites." So here's a list of 103 things that won't happen this year. But I want them to (well, most of them), and I'll go ahead and pretend that's realistic.

103. The Cubs will sign Albert Pujols when free agent season commences and he'll give them the "Screw you, Cardinals" discount.
102. Carlos Marmol will save 50 games.
101. Starlin Castro will have a 25-game errorless streak.
100. Todd Ricketts will throw six bench players in the trash and pay for them out of his own wallet.
99. Angel Guzman will pitch. In the majors. Effectively.
98. They'll open a Starbucks in my house.
97. Bleacher ticket prices for all home games after July 1 will be lowered to $10.
96. Rudy Jaramillo will learn to control the wind.
95. Aramis Ramirez will hit 30 home runs.
94. Before the All-Star break.

93. Cubs fans on Twitter will stop arguing after losses and instead tweet Kumbaya repeatedly.
92. I'll learn to calculate tERA in my head.
91. I'll find a link to an explanation of tERA.
90. New Cubs radio analyst: me.
89. The Cubs' first loss will come in May.
88. First 3-HR game of 2011: Carlos Zambrano.
87. I won't mess up the numbering of this ridiculously long stupid idea for a post.
86. The first Cubs/Cardinals game will be decided on a Ryan Theriot TOOTBLAN.
85. I'll have the best sandwich I've ever eaten.
84. The Cubs will employ a six-man starting rotation, and all six starters will win 20 games.
83. I'll order another one of those sandwiches.
82. "Go Cubs Go" will be played over the Wrigley PA 50 times between April and October.
81. And about 10 more times in October.
80. Mike Quade will have to downplay his effect on this team and defer credit to management and the players.
79. Jim Hendry will refrain from saying, "I told you so."
78. But he will have told you so.
77. Paul Sullivan will hug it out with Big Z.
76. The nickname "Grouchy Faun" will catch on.
75. Cubs players won't be known by their disparaging adjectives.
74. Jennifer Lopez will sing the 7th inning stretch.
73. Shut up.
72. I'll laugh at how many of these will come true.
71. That number will be higher than 6.
70. Ryan Dempster won't miss a start.
69. The Cubs will have to replace the W flag from overuse.
68. Four times.
67. Cubs fans will start referring to 2011 as 20!!.
66. President Obama will dread welcoming the MLB champions to the White House.
65. He'll take credit for the Cubs' success.
64. I won't care.
63. I'll stop filling up these options with fragmented filler.
62. Pat Hughes will discuss wOBA at length.
61. 10 walkoff homers.
60. Keith Moreland will make us love him.
59. He'll even sing that song from Dreamgirls, and point at everybody in Wrigley shouting, "You and you and you and you and you . . . you're gonna love me!"
58. And you.
57. I'll only come up with good ideas for blog posts, ones that I can finish lazily and not want to stab out my eyes halfway through.
56. Wait, I'm not halfway through? Please alert me of any typos by voicemail. My eyes no longer work.
55. On account of the stabbing.
54. A new Garfield movie will come out, and everyone will not loathe it.
53. Alfonso Soriano will start live tweeting Cubs games from left field.
52. He will answer all criticisms before attempting to pick up the ball that just got by him.
51. Spring Training games will be meaningful.
50. Andrew Cashner will be the 20!! Rookie of the Year.
49. I'll verify rookie-of-the-year eligibility requirements before making predictions of that nature.
48. I'll celebrate my birthday with a Cubs victory.
47. I'll finally have a beer.
46. I'll begin four consecutive list items with I'll.
45. Make that five.
44. Dammit.
43. The cause of advanced statistical projections will be set back 10 years by the ridiculously improbable success of the Chicago Cubs.
42. This team will have a nickname. The Whodathunkits or something.
41. It will be warm on Opening Day.
40. The DH will be implemented in the National League at midseason.
39. The NFL and the NFLPA will reach a labor agreement. Because of the Cubs.
38. All of the things John Lennon imagined will come true in a Danish think tank.
37. They'll conclude it wasn't all that great of a dream to begin with, whether he was the only one or not.
36. Calvin & Hobbes will come back.
35. Parking at Cubs games will stop sucking.
34. Not a single broadcast will go by without Pat Hughes using the word cerulean.
33. We're going to miss Ronny. A lot.
32. . . .
31. I'll take in a game with Tim and Julie.
30. I just poked myself in the eye with my thumb for real. Even my subconscious hates this post.
29. The winner of American Idol will be booked to sing the national anthem at a very important Cubs game.
28. She will be bumped at the last minute and replaced by Jim Cornelison.
27. Figuratively speaking.
26. Albert Pujols will tell Chicago sports talk radio that he's on the right side of the rivalry now.
25. Koyie Hill. Game winner. Game 5.
24. I know, right?
23. Geovany Soto will see the 2-spot in the batting order.
22. A rookie we aren't talking about will do something special.
21. Randy Wells will confound his doubters and throw a no-hitter.
20. The day after getting absolutely plastered.
19. No one in Chicago will ever boo Carlos Zambrano again.
18. Tyler Colvin: shard free.
17. A prominent Chicago writer will conclude that the hype around Starlin Castro has, up to now, been understatement.
16. Kerry Wood. Standing ovation. In Game 7.
15. Wire.
14. To.
13. Wire.
12. A lot of people who never saw the Cubs coming will say that they should have seen the Cubs coming.
11. I'll get through this without laughing till I puke.
10. AU-GIE. AU-GIE. AU-GIE.
9. Matt Garza will make the smart people feel stupid.
8. Fernando Perez will conduct a seventh-inning-stretch poetry slam.
7. Carlos Pena will smile all day every day, and he won't quit until every last Cubs fan in the world is smiling with him.
6. Only five left. I can't believe there are only five left.
5. At some point, the Wrigley faithful will be chanting M-V-P. Maybe for Derrick Rose, I don't know.
4. At no point will I regret ever typing this godforsaken list.
3. Bill Murray will describe this team as a Cinderella story.
2. Albert Pujols will hire me as his agent.
1. The Cubs will win the World Series.

Whew.

What is a Cubs Game Worth?

2011-02-11T12:51:00.000-06:00

Do you really have to be there?

The newest Cubs ticket plan, the six pack, is now on sale at Cubs.com. Six games for $150 or more (they advertise the prices starting at $97, but the cheapest seats available in package E, for example, ring up at $141.16 once fees are included.) Not bad, all in all, I guess. You're going to pay $23 a ticket for not very good seats to 1 premium game and 5 games you'll try to sell to someone else (or maybe vice versa, I don't know you).

But is a trip to Wrigley worth that right now? I'll throw out all the other costs associated with getting to the game, because going into Chicago is worth it. I love Chicago. I love driving into Chicago. Up Lakeshore Drive. Through the tangled mess of the Dan Ryan. Neighborhood routes or expressway bypasses, I don't care. I love being in the city, and I'm not going to add the price of getting there into the Cubs' side of the ledger. Getting there is on me. Glad to do it.

Once I'm there, though, is it worth $23 to mingle around the statues and take in the ballpark rising from the cramped city . . . trapezoid; to trudge through the fog of beer fumes and hot dog vapors; to fade into a crowd of people who more than anything just want to see a Cubs win and enjoy a few drops of sunshine along the way; to sit in uncomplicated seats; to bring my voice close enough to the field that the players can hear my cheers of support and groans of disappointment and shouts of triumph? Is that worth $23? $30? $125?

How much is it worth to me to indoctrinate my sons with an emotional attachment to a team that offers little rational return on the investment? To bring them to a place so big and green and beautiful that reveals itself in a sudden wave of glory as we head up the steps onto the mezzanine? To sit beside them and talk about whatever they want to talk about and answer every question and not have a TV on? How much is that worth to cement a moment in time between me and the members of my family?

I guess about $15 per person is what I'm saying.

Chicago Cubs in Music: Icicles

2011-02-10T12:32:00.002-06:00

BECAUSE IT'S SO FREAKING COLD!!!!!

Chicago Cubs in Music: Can the Cubbies Get Back to Contention?

2011-02-09T10:00:00.000-06:00

If Starlin Castro has a sophomore year that's more Albert Pujols then Jerome Walton . . .

If the Luck Dragon smiles on Carlos Pena's BABIP . . .

If Mike Quade actually is the Luck Dragon . . .

If Albert Pujols gets angry and only takes it out on his own team (and occasionally the Brewers and Reds) . . .

If a whole bunch of other really awesome things go just right for the Cubs . . .

The Cubs could seriously contend in 2011.

BUT . . .

Well, that's an awfully big but. And if you like that sort of thing, this is your year. And this is your song.

Chicago Cubs in Music: Hard for Me to Say I'm Sorry

2011-02-08T06:52:00.000-06:00

Because I don't know that words will convey my current feelings on the Cubs quite precisely enough (I mean, the pre-Spring-Training pangs are so nebulous, so elusive, so coincidental to the ebb and flow of blogger lethargy), I'll be relying on the power of music to get the point across. First up, fittingly I suppose, Chicago.

Remaining Cubs Ticket Sales Announced

2011-02-07T11:26:00.000-06:00

Still want Cubs tickets? They're having a sale! Here's the gist:

This Friday, Feb. 11, a six-pack plan goes on sale. Six-ticket packages starting at about $100 plus taxes, fees, and what-are-you-looking-at? surcharges.

The Cubs have lifted their ban on the Saturday, June 18 game against the Yankees. A new 13-game plan featuring the previously unreleased tickets goes on sale now, NOW! Prices start at ZOMDR!

The MasterCard pre-sale is back and exactly the same as ever! Wednesday, Feb. 23 and Thursday, Feb. 24 will give fans the opportunity to spend more than they otherwise would for tickets no one else will be willing to buy. Hurry!

Plain-old vanilla single-game tickets will go on sale Friday, Feb. 25. You can buy them online or by joining the teeming severals of fans who like to wear wristbands and avoid the mass ticket-agent surcharges. They'll be selling tickets by phone, too, because some people apparently still use those.

Happy money losing!

Okay, that's totally jaded of me. I still love the Cubs. I hope they win lots and that the tickets are all worth every penny. But . . . *

*meaningful ellipses dripping with sarcasm