The Cubsmos is Trapped in High School

2010: A Fail Odyssey

I never know what to call the group of all people associated with but not necessarily a part of the Cubs organization: the fans, the media, the bloggers, the whoever. Cubdom. The Cubosphere. The Cubbieverse. Cub Nation. The Fail and Losing Community. We. They. The Empty Set. For the moment, I have decided on the Cubsmos. Instead of the Cosmos, not to be confused with the magazine or the drink or the Kramer. But I digress.

The Cubsmos, or at least large factions within it, seems to be trapped in the past. Not a specific date or era like 1908 or '69 or the Bartman game. We're trapped in high school, maybe junior high. As I did then, I'd love to escape the embittered, disenfranchising subculture of vindictive cliques, the suppressed insecure rage, the bizarre false sense of entitlement and melodramatic mock tragedy. But here we are in Cubsmos High. I was going to give ten reasons, and maybe I will at some point, but here are my two favorites.

The Crotchety Old Coach/Gym Teacher thinks ridicule and public punishments are the best motivators. Athletes aren't professionals, they're slimy, cocksure ingrates who need to be put in their place. Lack of hustle? Benched! Brain lapse? Benched and insulted! Don't run out a pop up? You'll do push-ups until I get tired! I'm sorry . . . but didn't we hate that guy? Didn't high school, in a roundabout way, teach us  it might be a better idea to treat people with respect and handle matters in a civilized, private, non-roid-rage manner?

Just Something About Cubs, Cardinals on a Saturday

I usually hate Cubs/Cardinals games,

but Saturdays are the exception.

I hate it when the Cubs play the Cardinals. I've called it the worst rivalry in sports. Beating the Cardinals usually comes more as a relief than a cause for great joy. If the Cardinals win, I hear it from their fans. If the Cubs win, I hear about how many championships the Cardinals have won since the Cubs' last World Series. I believe it's more than one.

I also hate it when Cubs games are televised on FOX. I don't like the announcers. I don't like the graphics. I don't like the way the entire broadcast seems to find the elusive mix of patronizing affection and professional disdain for everything associated with the Chicago National League ball club. The games take longer. They never seem to start at a good time. I'm whining, I know, but baseball on FOX is stupid.

But for some odd reason (maybe something to do with a certain game in which a certain Hall of Fame Cub second baseman hit two home runs off a Hall of Fame ex-Cub and then-Cardinal closer) I have a strong, strange affinity for Saturday afternoon Cubs/Cardinals games, even the ones broadcast on FOX. There's a mystique about them. As much as I like to say the Cardinals suck, on these Saturday afternoon telecasts, I renew my respect for the franchise and their fans, even if for only a three-hour period.

Carlos Zambrano is usually good for something memorable.
Something positive? We'll see.

It feels like the Olympics. Or a Rocky movie. Somehow the teams seem both more familiar than usual and more superhuman. It's as though I'm watching people I know elevate themselves to some Valhallan stage where every pitch carries eternal significance, every at-bat an audition for immortality.

Maybe that's a bit much (a bit, you ask?) but that's how it feels. Any other day it's just the irritating tradition of surviving the attacks or suffering at the hands of the despised Cardinals, but on Saturday afternoons . . . it's altogether different.

The other factor contributing to the feeling that this more than just another weary game against another superior opponent on the way to the finish line of another dismal season is that Carlos Zambrano is pitching. It's been quite awhile since that signified the likelihood of a start that would last into the 9th inning or a Wrigley scoreboard peppered with harmless white zeros. (Yes, I know they're playing at Busch. Leave my imagery alone.) But today in enemy territory against the Cardinals' ace, Chris Carpenter, I have the feeling Zambrano might just rise to the occasion. I don't think he will. Actually, the part of my brain that controls the typing is all but refusing to type this next part: I feel like he's going to pitch a gem of historic proportions.

I have zero logical foundation for that feeling. None. Zambrano's velocity is down. His control is shaky. His emotions are monitored on a moment-by-moment basis. But this is Saturday. Against the Cardinals. On FOX. And my stupid, irrational, unreliable, foolish, desperately optimistic gut is telling me we might look back on today as the Zambrano game.

My brain is saying it will be known as one of those Pujols games.

Secret to Losing: Let the Bullpen Pitch More

Z is on a 70-80 pitch count. Over/Under: 3 IP?

As the options in the current fan poll suggest, watching the Cubs lately has been particularly unpleasant for the past 2 years century ever month or so. Some people think the insufferable play flows from a lack of effort, caused or made worse by Lou Piniella's retirement announcement. I'm pretty sure a lot of us just think the Cubs suck profusely. Some might trace the impetus for their newer, better, more high-powered brand of suckitude to the trade of Ted Lilly and clubhouse sparkplug (giggle-snort) Ryan Theriot to the Dodgers; the waving of the white flag (sans the W) was the Cubs' cue to quit.

I call BSP (bad starting pitching).

Seeing that tonight marks the return of Carlos Zambrano to the starting rotation (Z III, this time, it's WAR!), it's a fine time to point out that the Cubs' starting rotation has somewhat sneakily sucked it up since Zambrano yelled for a minute and then ate dinner. I say "sneakily" just because there have been plenty of fine pitching performances in the month and a half since. I wouldn't say that the starters have been bad in general since that time. I wouldn't even necessarily argue that the bullpen has been abysmal so much as they have been overtaxed because of an unhealthy dose of isolated (but not as isolated as we'd like) short starts.

Half Decent: Setting Expectations for the 2011 Cubs (pt. 2)

Art the Cubs the worst team in Middle Earth? Methinks not.

Earlier this week I took a look at the very real possibility that next year could be the year that the Cubs become a half-decent offensive team again. This time I wanted to look at the pitching (and defense, to some extent) as it is and then, blindfolded, throw a few darts at some possible paths to half-decency. Here are the Cubs pitchers who qualify (.3 Innings Pitched per Team Game) sorted by ERA+ (ERA compared to league average and adjusted for park factor). As it was with OPS+, an ERA+ above 100 indicates a better than average ERA. Below 100 kinda sucks.

Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh

The Chicago Cubs are a professional baseball team. In the majors.

The best news for the Cubs on Friday was that Carlos Zambrano got hugged.

The best news for Cubs fans on Friday was that Jim Hendry knows they suck and has for quite some time.

The second best news for Cubs fans (and it was a hard-luck runner up) is that several teams (all of them in the NL West, for some reason) have interest in Ryan Theriot. Being on their team. I know, right?

The Cubs haven't won a World Series since the year the Baseball Writers Association of America was founded (1908). Think I'm jaded against the beat writers? Now you know why.

17-2.

George Ofman Joins Us for a Trade Deadline Edition of WTF

WGN's George Ofman took a break from fielding the calls from angry/delusional Cubs fans to call into our sarcastic corner of Cubdom on Wrigley Talk Friday with Julie from LOHO and Tim from Aisle 424. He had some intriguing perspectives on the Cubs' next manager, the return of Carlos Zambrano, and recent developments from the talks between the Cubs and Dodgers about a deal that would send Ted Lilly and Ryan Theriot to the land of Mannywood. Two big shockers: the Cubs have known they were out of it as long as we have, and Hendry had a chance to pull the trigger on a deal that would have sent Ryan Dempster to La-La Land. Listen in the sidebar player or here.

Many thanks to George, who blogs on That's All She Wrote and tweets under his eponymous handle.  Kudos to Julie for bringing in a steady stream of great guests, including next week's guest, former Cub Doug Glanville. Stay tuned!

Zambrano Fails to Apologize to Starving Children

When do they get their dinner, Carlos? And when do they get their apology?

I said yesterday that Carlos Zambrano said all the right things in his apology to the fans and his general statement that everything about his dugout tirade was wrong, but that was before I had all the facts. It has since come out that Zambrano has yet to apologize to the Cubs as a congregation. He hasn't even embroidered all his shirts and jerseys with the scarlet A for Anger as ordered by Pastor Morrissey.

Sure, Zambrano has apologized to players individually, but what about the team as a whole? What about the Wrigley Field ambassadors? What about the children? Never mind the convenient fact that Zambrano has been separated from the Cubs by an average of 1,000 miles since he was suspended. That doesn't change the fact that he's apologizing in the absolute wrong order.

The first person he needed to apologize to was obvious, but whether he did that or not is between him and DeRosa. After that, he should have apologized to Derrek Lee. Okay, he did that, too, but only once? Another 99 are in order, and they should all be in public and/or under the supervision of a priest. Next comes his teammates, coaches, agents, and every innocent bystander.

Next he should have apologized to the media, starting with the white guys. Sullivan, Morrisey, Telander, Wittenmyer, Kaplan: these guys feared for their lives when Zambrano's rage boiled over. No, he didn't hurt anybody—this time—but he looked like he wanted to. The fact that he made his apology in an interview with Pedro Gomez won't be lost on them. You could cut the racial tension with a knife, which is exactly what the Chicago sports media is afraid of.

But the most overlooked group on Zambrano's apology waiting list, with its chronology screwed up beyond even Quentin Tarantino's comprehension, are the millions of starving children around the world. While they looked on in horror, the biggest, whiniest, most spoiled child of them all went out to dinner with the manager of the opposing team. Zambrano stuffed his petulant face with dinner, completely deaf to the rumbling empty stomachs of those less fortunate than himself.

But himself is all Zambrano thinks about. He's sorry. He was wrong. He is embarrassed by his actions. He is trying to improve the way he handles his anger. Selfish, racist, diva. This apology was all about him. The families of the victims of the Hindenburg disaster? Never even crossed Zambrano's mind.

Zambrano: I'm Sorry, Cubs Fans

Carlos Zambrano is sorry, and he wants the world to know. The statements he made (quoted in that ESPN Chicago article) are pretty much exactly what people are looking for from a guy after an embarrassing episode. The video is more an apology to the fans, which, again, is exactly what the Cubs organization is expecting from Zambrano.

They're also expecting him to pitch better, so we can only hope there's some connection between his composure in general and his abilities on the mound. I've always doubted that to be true, but I hope I'm wrong. Will writing in his anger journal every time he gets mad really help him locate his cutter?

Hey, maybe it will. No one who watches the Cubs with any interest can deny that emotional investment in this team has its share of physiological effects. Fans get nervous during games, so players undoubtedly do too. The difference in most professional athletes, or any public performer for that matter, is that they can harness the nervous energy as a catalyst, propelling them to even better levels of performance than they would otherwise achieve. That's why we cheer, isn't it, to provoke such a response? 

Anger isn't usually so beneficial, but it can be. Vin Scully has said that Jackie Robinson played better when he was angry. His vitriolic reaction to the hatred he faced fueled his performance without causing him to explode. Most human beings don't respond that way, but some do (my only other example is Wesley Snipes in White Men Can't Jump, so I'll move on). I don't think anyone suspects Zambrano of being one of those rare exceptions, at least not anymore. 

From what Zambrano is saying, much to the pleasure of Jim Hendry and the rest of the Cubs' front office (and potential trade partners, I suppose), he's taking his anger management therapy seriously and views it in a positive light. Some people, with Ron Santo as their most vocal leader, think Zambrano's anger and lack of composure is the only thing stopping him from being an all-world pitcher. If they're right, the next couple of months should be a lot of fun to watch.

With Z, the Picture's Worth 1,000 Angry Words

What does this man have left to say?

Zambrano is going to be allowed to speak his mind to his teammates before he says anything to the media. That's phenomenal. I think the look on his face in the photo (imported from the link above) says it all.  Maybe he's just tracking the flight of a fly ball, and I'm probably reading far too much into it, but he looks like a guy who is taking in a game he loves while feeling like he no longer belongs.

I'll allow you to draw your own conclusions.

Zambrano Takes Care of Business

What was supposed to be a showcase of the projected odd numbered starters for the 2009 Cubs (1. Carlos Zambrano, 3. Rich Harden, 5. Jeff Samardzija) turned into an odd mix of an encouraging win, an embarrassing loss, and an early exit . . . but not necessarily in that order. Carlos Zambrano was expected to get some bullpen work in Wednesday night's game between the Iowa Cubs and the Oklahoma City Red Hawks but left the scene after an early workout to, as HOFICMACSH* Ryne Sandberg put it, "take care of some business." I hope Bobby Scales didn't talk him into selling Amway.

Samardzija picked up his seventh Iowa win of the season after going five innings and allowing one earned run. He earned the W against his old (so old that right now he's looking like he should join Lou in retirement) teammate Harden, who delivered a familiar 5 IP, 7 H, 6 ER, 9 SO performance as he continues to rehab from a strained left butt cheek.

No reason to panic as Zambrano is scheduled to take the hill in relief on Thursday. Unless, you know, Zambrano pitching makes you panic. Or if the business he was taking care of was, in fact, dinner, in which case the National Guard needs to act pronto.


*Hall Of Fame Iowa Cubs Manager And Cubbie Skipper Hopeful

Also a Way of Life: [L]amebrained Planning

Mattress on the roof > Zambrano to the bullpen. Photo by e0nn

Cubs Facts that Don't Make Me Angry

On any given day, the Cubs have a really solid chance of winning, even if it's against the Pirates.

Pat Hughes is the best radio play-by-play man I've ever listened to on a daily basis.

Watching the Cubs lose in a hopeless summer is still better than the hopeful baseball-free winters.

There are an awful lot of Cubs fans that I like an awful lot.

Alfonso Soriano is no longer painful to watch.

The next heartbreaking playoff loss appears to be quite a ways off.

Ticket prices are going down like . . . well, like the Cubs.

Starlin Castro is still in the majors.

Tyler Colvin can hit.

The pitching has been pretty good this year, and I've always felt that bad pitching is much more frustrating to watch than bad offense.

Whether Tom Ricketts wants to run this team as a fan or as a businessman, he's going to have to put a better product on the field to be happy.

I really like the calzones at Wrigley.

However awful the walk-up music is, I haven't heard any Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber yet.

Even if they did, a little "Party in the U.S.A." never hurt anybody.

Most people won't admit it, but Carlos Zambrano spoke for all of us.

I'm pretty sure I have a fear of success, and the Cubs have been very understanding in that regard.

The fire sale is inevitable. And who doesn't love a sale?

Z, Interrupted

Z angry! Z smash!!!

Carlos Zambrano's rampage of terror has finally been stopped. After storming through the Cub dugout, terrorizing a camera crew outside of U.S. Cellular Field, and ravaging a Brazilian steakhouse with Ozzie Guillen, Zambrano finally succumbed to Cubs staff armed with tranquilizer cannons and electromagnetically powered titanium restraining belts. It took a few days to gain approval for his ultimate confinement while the ACLU and PETA wrangled to determine which group should be defending his rights.

Finally the dust has settled, freeing Jim Hendry to inform the public about the protective measures in place to minimize the damage Zambrano can inflict upon society. Long story short, we can breathe easy until after the All-Star Break. Big Z won't be around to hurt any of us for quite some time. But don't take my word for it. Here's Hendry's statement, point by reassuring point:

Beginning Wednesday, Carlos will undergo a treatment program . . .

This is where a lot of the mainstream media have begun to water down the severity of the issue, referring to the prescribed course of action as "anger management" or "counseling." Make no mistake: this is treatment. You don't often hear people say Carlos Zambrano has an "anger problem."  The term you hear thrown around almost universally is nut job.

So don't leave this happy press conference thinking Carlos is going to be attending a few classes, some private sessions, and some group therapy. This is a serious medical issue that will require the utmost in clinical expertise.

. . . with mutually agreed upon doctors from the Players' Association and Major League Baseball.

Now wait a second, here. Are these doctors selected from the ranks of the Players' Association and Major League Baseball, or are they selected and agreed upon by those two parties? Doc Halladay is a hell of a pitcher, but he's not qualified to take on a head case like Big Z. I'm going to go ahead and assume that the MLBPA and MLB will together avail themselves of the best psychiatric minds in the world.

Whatever crack military analysts have been  predicting the movements of Osama bin Laden, pull them off that cold case and put them on Zambrano. We need to know what strain of inhuman pathology has sent him down this path of self-destruction and what we can expect him to try next.

Basically, he will have to follow the treatment for his issues and be evaluated properly . . .

I'm sure the Zambrano family and both of his fans appreciate Hendry glossing over Carlos's soulless predilection for torture as "his issues," but the bottom line is that drastic experimental procedures need to be administered swiftly and relentlessly to ensure some semblance of public safety when Zambrano ventures back into society. Godzilla had issues. Zambrano has serious problems.

. . . and if the program is acted on properly in accordance to what the doctors they signify he needs to work on and improve on, and follow their directives, Carlos will not be reinstated any time until after the All-Star break.

Wait . . . what? If the weapons-grade lithium injections and shock treatment is properly executed and Zambrano stays conscious throughout the sensory deprivation and neural reprogramming, Zambrano won't be reinstated until after the ASB? So what happens if one of those pillars of personal transformation should crumble? Euthanasia? Siberian exile? Trade to the White Sox? I guess we'll cross that chasm into the eternal abyss when we come to it.

We've obviously had a lot of transgressions with Carlos in the past . . .

I hope Jim was just being polite with that first-person plural. If  Hendry, Lou, et al. have had transgressions with Carlos, I'd hate to see what scarlet letters emblazon their breasts. BP, maybe? But since the punishment is being prescribed to just Carlos, I can only assume that Zambrano alone has transgressed while Hendry, Piniella, the Ricketts family, and all of society have been mere victims of (not participators in) his tumultuous binges of iniquity.

. . . so I think we all agreed that it was time to go and get help, then address the apologies later.

Yes, we need to call in the authorities on this one. There's plenty of time for tear-filled remorse in between sodium pentothal injections. That's why they let you watch.

It's an unfortunate situation.

Yes, it was completely a function of luck. The powers of fortune and fate transpired to bring Carlos's demons to the surface. This "situation" had nothing to do with Hendry and Piniella moving Zambrano to the bullpen (which Hendry had stocked with rookies, pet projects, washed-up veterans, and injuries in waiting) just long enough for him to adjust to the move and then to draw him back into the rotation. The incessant criticism of Zambrano's better-than-average 2009 (in which the Cub offense behind him scored an average of .0002 runs per month, hence the single-digit win total) wasn't meant to make Z angry. The repetitive trade rumors leaked by the front office (despite Zambrano's insistence that he loved Chicago and would never leave) were immaterial to Zambrano's psychological condition. Oh no, Z has a medical problem brought on by the fickle middle finger of fortune.

. . . and His actions were certainly inappropriate and as I said on Friday, those actions toward his teammates and staff will not be tolerated.

Of course. This organization does not tolerate furious yelling. They just incite it.

That's why we tried to work to a conclusion as efficiently and as quickly as we could.

Had they the budget to hire a sniper on short notice, the conclusion would have been much quicker and more efficient. But in a world of backloaded contracts and suffocating debt relief, a suspension and a marathon date with the league shrink will have to do.

It's really pretty amazing how Hendry has managed to make Zambrano's outburst look like the mad confession of a serial killer. The past few days just gave Hendry's office time to find the bodies. A lot of people have criticized Hendry, Lou, and Zambrano's teammates for berating Z so openly, but it's really genius PR work. The excessive complaints, the drama, the mystery of Zambrano's whereabouts, and the complete absence of any definitive statement from Carlos himself have all created this grand illusion that Zambrano is criminally insane.

Hendry didn't have the slightest difficulty getting approval for intensive "treatment" for Zambrano because he made it so clear to the world that Zambrano is a sick, sick man. Lou seemed pretty calm in the dugout when the incident happened. After the game he was cool and collected but, admittedly, embarrassed. By the time evening fell, the shock of it all came crashing down and Lou was suddenly unable to eat.

Jim Hendry was likewise furious. Beside himself . . . with glee. Hendry has been looking to get rid of Zambrano for awhile now. He didn't want him in the rotation. He couldn't put him in the bullpen. He couldn't trade him, release him, or send him down to the minors. What's left? Thank DeRosa for the restricted list!

But didn't all this diminish Zambrano's trade value? Not at all! Don't you see the evil genius at work? This isn't a character flaw in Zambrano. This is a medical issue. He's getting treatment. Zambrano's temper is about to undergo Tommy John surgery, and the recovery time, apparently, is about three weeks. Whoever gets Zambrano at the end of July won't be getting a moody, ineffective reliever, they'll be getting the finest Carlos modern medicine can buy, one with the confidence, sensitivity, and electric fastball that can make him the ace of any staff.

It's too bad. I liked angry Z. He made me laugh and, unlike almost everyone else on this team, he didn't make me yawn until I wanted to pass out. I'm not defending what Zambrano did. Truth be told, I don't even know what Zambrano did. Whatever it was he did or said, and whatever fractured reasoning was behind it, I highly doubt it calls for a lobotomy.

Why I Still Love the Cubs

As much as I want to hate this team, I'm still all warm and hugsy for them inside.

Who can say why I ever started loving the Chicago Cubs? The identifying factors are plain enough. They were on free TV. My mom liked them. I grew up near Chicago. I also tend to dive headfirst into emotional obsessions, so I guess it's no great mystery I fell for the first team that would have me.

Be it loyalty or pure, masochistic addiction, I have stuck with this team for almost 30 years. Along the way, I've developed enough reasons (very few of them win-related) to feel okay about this baseball relationship. My first baseball game was at Wrigley with my mom. My dad took me to games despite his disinterest in baseball. I've watched games with my best friends. I've had terrible days redeemed by Cubs wins. I've had otherwise pleasant days ruined by Cub losses. I got engaged after (not at) a Cubs game. I've skipped school and work to watch Cubs games. I've watched my two sons begin to cheer for them two, may DeRosa forgive me.

None of that makes the Cubs the right team to cheer for, but all of it together permanently binds this team to a lot of my fondest memories. I don't think being a Cubs fan is a way of life, but it's definitely part of my life, and not a part I'm willing to give up. I love this team.

But all along the way, I've never loved the front office. I didn't fall in love with the way the players got along off the field. As a kid, I didn't pay one cent of regard to the expectations of the media. I never based my Cubbie affections on Leon Durham's disposition after a tough loss. When Lee Elia cursed the entire city, I didn't care. As much as I'd like to see the off-field stuff go well and the front office to make excellent decisions, I'm not bailing on the team on account of non-baseball shenanigans.

In fact, there's a lot to love about the shenanigans. When Andre Dawson tried to kill Eric Show, I thought it was awesome. When Don Zimmer argued like a buffoon until I thought his left eye was going to pop out, I laughed. I loved it when Sandberg circled the bases stone-faced and I loved it when Sammy Sosa hopped and blew kisses to the camera. The behavior of the players and managers was something to enjoy, not emulate. I understood that as a little kid, and I don't know why I should lose sight of it now. It's great drama. Everybody has their opinions on who's to blame or who to side with, but I see no reason why the Cubs' rendition of Melrose Place should interfere with my enjoyment of losing baseball.

I never demanded the Cubs to be great people. I obviously don't base my allegiance on their knack for winning. I love the Cubs, not because it's the smart thing to do, but because . . . it's something to do. Somewhere along the way from the advent of sports talk radio to Cubs chat rooms to Twitter to this dumb blog, I seem to have let the extraneous topics that are sometimes fun to talk about distract me from the main thing I actually care about: baseball.

It is nice to watch a game. There are some fun players on this team, and I hope I'll be watching them for awhile. Having been a Bulls fan in the '90s, I know what it's like to cheer for the best team in the world. There's still something strangely satisfying about cheering for my team, the Cubs, the first team in any sport I ever cared about. The Cubs are bad, some of their best players are jerks, and they're organization is run by idiots. But they are my bad, jerky idiots. I love 'em.

Just Deserts

My wife and I took the boys to see Toy Story 3 today. It's a fine movie, but it reminded me why I don't go to movies very often anymore. I told my youngest you eat popcorn when you go to the theater, but I didn't tell him it cost $6.00 for a bucket of stale, burnt-toast flavored not-goodness.

And as I shelled out good money for something I knew would make a negative contribution to the cinematic experience (yet fulfill my popcorn promises), I thought about what a terrible business practice it is to so blatantly screw over your customers. But then I inwardly scolded myself. I can't be that critical of a business practice if I'm stupid enough to fall prey to it (and I'm standing in line with my fellow intellectual paralytics). I shouldn't have told my son it's tradition to eat popcorn at the movies. I should have told him that movie theaters treat ticket holders with contempt and that any smart person would refuse to accept it.

But I didn't, and I got what I deserved. And everyone in the Cubs universe gets their just deserts*, too.

Carlos Zambrano invented his own personal brand of crazy and will be punitively sent to the bullpen upon his indefinite return from suspension. Does he deserve it? Why not. You act like that in front of people who don't like you and have the power to make you pay for it, you know there will be consequences.

Cubs' management showed with this bullpen shift that Zambrano's initial stint as a reliever had nothing to do with baseball. Hendry and Lou wanted Z in his place even though they knew he didn't belong in the bullpen—he belonged in the doghouse. So they got what they deserved, an angry, ineffective, jerked-around anti-ace. They should have seen this blow-up coming, because Z isn't exactly an easy-going flower of a man. Doing something so stupid as giving their $91-million pitcher the Samardzija treatment makes much less sense than signing either of those guys in the first place.

Zambrano, meanwhile, deserves both his money (he pitched very well in his early career and would have commanded an even larger contract on the free agent market) and the foul treatment. He gave the Cubs a hometown discount (yeah, believe it or not, a discount), but he should have known it came at a higher price than just a few million dollars. He signed with a team he should have predicted would screw him over. Shame on you, Carlos. You and the Cubs are each other's just deserts.

Jim Hendry, you've created something of a trend with your indefinite suspensions, ironic since you were responsible for signing the players you suspended. Why you would make someone a mega-millionaire and then ground him is up to you, but when the message you send fails to result in winning baseball, the dizzying mess of bleating, whining, and winless chemistry will be well deserved.

Lou will walk away from the Cubs at the end of this season with a lot of extra millions, a couple of extra headaches, a slightly higher blood pressure reading, and only the slightest hint of regret. He knew what he was walking into when he took the helm in Wrigleyville, and he knew the glory and the criticism that would pour down upon him with every win and loss.

Derrek Lee and his fellow teammates, all of whom received a vicious tongue-lashing from Zambrano, fully deserved to be criticized publicly by a crazy man.

Kevin Millar deserves to be working TV with the opportunity to laugh at the misfortunes of his former spring-training team.

The Ricketts family profess to have been fans of this team and yet still saw fit to pay nearly a billion dollars to make it their own. They got what they paid for. They're the proud owners of a one-of-a-kind masterpiece of awful. Congrats. Your just deserts just happen to be plunging in value at the moment. Go ahead and raise ticket prices again, why don'tcha?

I mustn't forget my favorite group of friends, the fans. We cheer for a team we know won't win. Some of us, myself included, are willing to pay upwards of $60 to sit in the blazing hot sun and bask in the glow of a 12-0 suckfest. I deserved what I got, a good time with friends, an uber-fast lopsided loss, and the freakiest farmer's tan I've ever seen.  Should I be upset that the Cubs are now running a promotion to dispense those same tickets at a $10 rate (which is nearly doubled by fees) or that other fans can buy scalped tickets for even less, sans convenience fees but with twice as much convenience?

No, I should be just a bit more aware of the idiocy I've allowed to run my life. This feeling of anger and apathy swirling together in a delicious angst-ridden suckcicle is my just desert and I must suck it.

*No, I didn't spell it wrong. Look it up.

Zut Alors!

Video clip certainly to be taken down by MLB in 5...4...3...2...

Carlos Zambrano got into a fight with Derrek Lee, probably because Derrek was the first one to respond to the tirade Z directed at the entire dugout after a rocky 4-run 1st inning against the White Sox. I guess you could say he overreacted.

Overreaction is contagious. Twitter exploded. Paul Sullivan called for Z's immediate fine and suspension. Gordon Wittenmyer said the Cubs couldn't win with Zambrano and that no team would want him. Sox fans all rushed to the obituary section to make sure they hadn't died, because yesterday felt a whole lot like heaven. Steve Stone took the chance to call Zambrano a coward who years ago had "sucker punched" a helpless Michael Barrett. A few Cubs bloggers woke from dormant apathy to comment on the matter. It has been pretty much overreactions galore since Z stamped the base for the final out of the 1st.

Lou Piniella, the man Cubs fans have been begging to overreact, actually took a pretty even-tempered approach to the whole thing.Then Jim Hendry suspended him . . . indefinitely. Overreaction? Eh.

To borrow a word from His Level-Headedness, Look . . . Zambrano was over the edge in his tirade. But tirade is just a way to subtly and verbally overreact to someone who is talking loud. Hendry called it savage, and maybe it looked that way. Okay, it looked that way. But what harm did it do?

Lou called it embarrassing. Well, guess what, Lou? The Cubs as an organization being embarrassed is a net change in status of zero point zero, zero. Losing is embarrassing, and that's been the Cubs' trademark this season. The only difference between Z's tantrum and the reactions exhibited by the team in the 72 previous games is that Zambrano went down kicking and screaming.

I suppose a suspension is in order as a political gesture, but in reality, of the small percentage of Cub fans, players, and staff who still care about what the Cubs do, how many of us haven't at some point felt the urge to yell at the lot of them like Zambrano did? I know I have. That doesn't justify what Zambrano did . . . but I understand.

To those who want to trade or release Zambrano after the shortest start of his career (a record he seems to break with regularity) and maybe his career's loudest hissy fit, I really hope you aren't in charge. Let's just stop the overreactions. Carlos Zambrano is 29 years old, and he can still pitch. He is erratic in every sense of the word, but he is not done. To trade him or release him now would be a plan designed to get the very smallest return (or rather the largest resulting debt) out of a guy who still, yesterday's lowlight reel to the contrary, has a lot to offer a major league ball club.

Based on what? Oh, I don't know, his career numbers. The obvious fact that he still gives a crap. The Lifetime movie of the week, Not Without My Gatorade Cooler, where a hotheaded Venezuelan starter finds love, hope, and absolution in the arms of a gruff, oft misunderstood Hobbit with questionable journalistic integrity but a heart that just won't quit.

Alright, overreact if you must, but please feel free to do so in the comments below.

You Can Catch It All on WGN

Cubs on WGN? Niemi says NO!

Taking in Cubs games on WGN, both good-old channel 9 and AM 720, is a tradition that goes back as long as I've been a Cubs fan. (I'm aware that the Cubs existed in broadcast form before I began caring about them in 1981, but I honestly don't care about that, do you?) But tonight, the radio broadcast will be on WIND AM 560 to accommodate the Blackhawks. Apparently, Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals in Philadelphia is more important than Game 3 of the potential second consecutive sweep of the Cubbies in Pittsburgh.

I'd have to agree with appearances. This isn't the first time the Cubs have been preempted on their own flagship station. Before the early '90s sent the Bears station hopping across the left side of the Chicago radio dial, they would occasionally bump the broadcasts of their younger ursine brethren. But those were regular-season affairs for both teams, and it usually brought a sense of relief.

It seems like just last week that Cub fans couldn't wait for the 2009/2010 Bears to take the sting away from the 2009 Cub season. But that season had barely begun before we were waiting for the 2010 Cubs to alleviate the woes of another failed Bears season. Somewhere along the way, though, the 2009/2010 Blackhawks skated through and shattered the mediocrity threatening to take over this city.

And now they have a chance to claim WGN, the Stanley Cup, and the hearts of Chicago fans. I hope they do it in convincing fashion (aka making those sorry schmucks in Philly wish they had just dropped the series to Boston to save them from the embarrassment brought on by the team with the best jersey in sports).

Whether you tune in to hear Z return to the starting rotation or Lord Stanley's Cup return to Chicago, I hope you enjoy the sound of the state of Philadelphia bowing in humble desolation. Go HAWKS!

Cubs' Random Bullpen Generator

The reasoning behind the Cubs' bullpen/starting rotation moves is finally revealed.

Andrew Cashner is coming to the big leagues. The former #1 draft pick and ex-starting pitcher will be joining the big-boy club as the Cubs travel to their AAAA-affiliate Pittsburgh Pirates. (Yes, I know this AAAA-club has been smacking the Cubs around, they're still awful.) Joining young Andrew in the bullpen will be everyone's favorite line-drive-absorbing lefty, Tom Gorzelanny.

Zambrano pitched in relief yesterday and will officially, or at least practically, return to the starting rotation on Wednesday after his abbreviated, tumultuous, and downright bizarre stint in the bullpen. Randy Wells, who pitched only briefly and ineffectively on Friday, will move into Gorzelanny's slot in the rotation.

Cashner had been effective as a starting pitcher at every level so far this year, as has the Cubs' other promising pitching prospect, Jay Jackson. But Jackson was recently switched to the bullpen at AAA. Then Cashner was moved to the bullpen and Jackson returned to starting duty. Then they switched lockers and dated each other's mothers.

Meanwhile, the Cubs got drubbed in two of the three of the weekend games, although they did win easily in Jolly Lord Silva's brilliant start on Saturday. They really have been all over the place. Silva is good. Wells and Lilly are alternately dominant and dormant. Dempster's getting pretty homer unlucky. Carlos Marmol is insanely good. The bullpen in general seems to give up either 3 runs or zero baserunners every game. To quote Ron Santo, you just never know with this team.

You never know with this organization, either. In his post-game remarks, Lou expressed his desire to keep the randomness spinning through the lineup card as well, so we should prepare for a brand new look tomorrow. Maybe Geobeepee Soto will lead off. Maybe Aramis will hit bat ninth. Maybe I'll finally get a chance to hit cleanup.

Personally, I'll find a change welcome, but the one I'm most interested in seeing is a team other than the Cardinals. I hate that team. They lead the league in annoying fans. Their manager is the devil. Bring on the Buccos.

And until I see some type of consistency in performance or organizational direction, I'll hereby refer to the 2010 Cubs team as the Wrigley Randoms.

Lost Like Us: Will Cubs Ever Leave the Island?

Lost: Season 102

The series finale of Lost will be taking up two and a half hours of my time on Sunday and is sure to dominate hours of discussion to follow. In that and in a host of other ways, it's not unlike a typical Cubs game. As any Lost fan knows, pop culture allusions flow like DHARMA-issued wine through the narrative of the cultiest of cult-TV shows: Alice in Wonderland, Wizard of Oz, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the Bible, and virtually any other story about a motley cast of misfits brought together for a fantastic mission. And if that sounds familiar to you as a Cubs fan, it's because that pretty much describes every team ever assembled to try to bring a World Series championship to Wrigley Field.

It's a bizarre little way of life we've got going here, one artistically rendered on Lost island with eerie accuracy.

So here are some of the myriad ways that Lost mirrors the island of losing on which we've all been stranded (watching in eager anticipation all the while).

On Lost: A plane goes horribly off course and crashes in an unfamiliar land in September of 2004 and again in 2007.
At Wrigley: The Cubs' World Series plans go horribly off course and ultimately crashes in September of every year for the last century plus. (A handful of times it was in October, but who's counting? Oh, that's right, I am.)

On Lost: John Locke, previously crippled, is able to walk after his plane crashes on the island.
At Wrigley: John Grabow, previously competent, walks pretty much everyone he faces now that he's a Cub.

On Lost: Survivors on the island enter the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 into a computer every 108 minutes to prevent the island from imploding.
At Wrigley: Last time I checked my computer, 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 were the ERAs of 6 of the Cubs' relievers, hence, the repeated implosions of wins, and no championships since 1(9)08.

On Lost: Sawyer mocks Hurley's weight with a variety of condescending nicknames, including Deep Dish, IHOP, and JumboTron.
At Wrigley: At one point or another, I've wanted all of those things while watching a Cubs game.

On Lost: Jack's dad, Christian, swears that the Red Sox will never win a World Series. After the crash, they do.
At Wrigley: People swear a lot as the Cubs fail to win a World Series, and the crashes keep on coming.

Never lose the finger tape, Koyie. Never!

On Lost: Resident rocker, Charlie Pace, tapes his fingers for a dual purpose: a) to look cool, and b) to foreshadow events on the show.
At Wrigley: Backup catcher, Koyie Hill, tapes his fingers for a dual purpose: a) to help pitchers see his pitch signs, and b) to keep his fingers attached.

On Lost: Fans have a lot of theories about what's going on, though ultimately the show reveals new surprises to keep the fans guessing.
At Wrigley: Fans have a lot of theories about what's going on, though ultimately the Cubs lose in new and surprising ways . . . and we keep watching.

On Lost: In a shocking twist, Jack, the leader (though not undisputed) of the survivors, joined the Others to help cure their ailing leader, Ben. Then he shot a few people to escape.
At Wrigley: In a shocking twist, Carlos Zambrano, the leader (though not undisputed) of the starting rotation, joined the bullpen to help cure their ailing ERA. Then he blew a few games and escaped.

On Lost: The survivors and viewers alike are given nightmares by Benjamin Linus because of his malicious talent and his big buggy eyes.
At Wrigley: Ryan Braun.

On Lost: Sun Kwan pretended not to know English to avoid getting in trouble with her husband, Jin.
At Wrigley: Sammy Sosa pretended not to know English to avoid getting in trouble with Congress.

On Lost: Walt was all but written out of the show because the actor who played him, Malcolm David Kelley, aged beyond the speed of his 12-year-old character.
At Wrigley: Starlin Castro was called up to the show because he was playing well beyond his 20-year-old age. Coincidentally, he also could convincingly be cast as a 12-year-old.

On Lost: It's hard to believe the show is finally coming to an end. . . . But it is.
At Wrigley: It's hard to believe this tradition of losing will ever end. . . . But we do.

Stream of Cubbie Consciousness

Carlos Zambrano belongs in the bullpen like Rod Blagojevich belongs on the Supreme Court.

Over the last week, the Cubs went 2-4 . . . and gained a game on the Cardinals.

The Toyota sign is a commercial, not a story.

Any team that doesn't pull out all the stops to grab every dollar they can scrounge will show the same lackluster interest in wins.

I can't stop watching 'Til Death. It is not funny.

The National League is pretty bad.

Next Sunday's Lost finale will leave us with a lot of unanswered questions. Most of them will start with "What the . . . "

The Cubs are a better team with Starlin Castro than with Chad Tracy.

Conan O'Brien's anti-cynical farewell speech was good advice.

The purists said the lights desecrated Wrigley Field. I was one of them. I was 13. Change is good.

If Lou didn't care, he would have quit a long time ago.

No. He didn't. Very funny.

Carlos Marmol found the cheat codes for his slider.

Space Giants was a great show.

No sport has been more revolutionized by the advent of HDTV than hockey. I can see the puck now.

Marlon Byrd.

Over 1/3 of one-pitch at-bats result in hits.

Coffee is the quaintest of addictions.

When the Cubs start hitting as a team (and they will . . . this year) they'll rack up a double-digit winning streak.

The Cubs don't need a mascot. We are the mascots.

Wrigley Field ambassadors won't stop fans in the bleachers from relieving themselves in empty beer cups, but they will hand out "not beer" labels.

I overhead a Wrigley bathroom attendant saying he had waited five years to get his current assignment. Heaven help the poor schmuck who inherited his 2005 gig.

Singing "the Cubs are gonna win today" after they win is . . . well, given the state of the bullpen, it's almost premature.