Day-Off Reflections: MJ rocks the Crosstown Classic

Ah, yes, the good ol' days; back when Cubs vs. Sox was nothing but an exhibition of inane proportions.

I guess the promotional series (the official Crosstown Classic ran from '85 to '95) also gave Sox fans some consolation in their team's lowly status in Chicagoland and perpetual 2nd-place finishes in the AL West.

The Cubs went 0-10-2 in the life of the series, but the lowlight for them may have been a game that ended in a tie.

April 7, 1994. Michael Jordan donned a real Sox jersey in what would prove to be the apex of his baseball career, as he racked up 2 hits, 2 RBI, and a game-tying, late-inning RBI double that prevented the Cubs from posting their first W in the Classic.

Thankfully, interleague baseball in the Windy City has been a completely different story since the games began counting. The series is tied 33-33, which is just fine by me. Seriously, I just want these games to be over without ruining the Cubs' season or killing anybody. Just as long as the Cubs aren't undone by any tongue-waggling Hall-of-Fame shooting guards, I'll be fine.

The Cubs Giveth & The Cubs Taketh Away

Getting shutout by a rookie pitcher isn't good enough for a team supposedly blessed with potent bats, and it isn't good enough for their hitting coach, either. So it makes enough sense for Gerald Perry to get the message-sending heave ho after the Cubs were blanked 2-0 by Anthony Swarzak and the Twins.

But apparently, blanking the Cubs isn't good enough for Swarzak to keep his job. The Twins handed him the game ball and a demotion to AAA after his shutout performance on Saturday. So that's what it's come to? Shutting out the Cubs just isn't that impressive?

The sad thing is, the rookie will almost certainly give up more runs in his next minor league start than he did against the Cubbies. Anthony, if you're reading this, look up Jake Fox in AAA. Maybe he and his 5-6 pinch-hitting performance can console you on the pain of being demoted for succeeding.

So the Cubs' futility on offense couldn't keep Swarzak in the big leagues and brought new hitting coach Von Joshua out of the minors. What impact will any of it have on the Cubs offensive woes? Unless Mr. Joshua has a doctorate in psychology, I'm not too sure he'll have the answer to the Cubs troubles.

I also hope I'm wrong, as do all the future rookie pitchers waiting to try their hand against this Cub lineup.

Cub Fans and Music Lovers: Try This, Genius

If you aren't familiar with the man behind the music played after every Cub win, you really ought to cozy up to the music of the late Steve Goodman. Before it became fashionable to be a talented singer/songwriter/Cub fan, Goodman was the original. He wrote songs for Arlo Guthrie, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, and more aspiring Chicago musicians than you can shake Soriano at. His most popular songs, though, are probably his Cub-related tunes, "Go Cubs Go," and the above video, "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request."

The truly sad thing is that he really was a Dying Cub Fan. Goodman fought leukemia for essentially his entire career and finally passed away on September 20, 1984 at the age of 36. If your math skills and sense of Cub history are sharp, you already realize just how sad a life he had as a tortured musician and Cub fan . . .

The Cubs didn't play a single postseason game during Steve Goodman's lifetime.

So if you're looking for music to accompany your sorrows for Steve Goodman and the seemingly endless plight of the Cubs, I suggest this little experiment: play "Go Cubs Go" on your iPod or iTunes and click that fun little "Genius" button. Here are a few selections from the playlist of ironic torment and musical consolation my system delivered:

1. "Go Cubs Go," Steve Goodman (Hey, Chicago, what do you say? The Cubs are gonna win today.)

2. "The Blower's Daughter," Damien Rice (And so it is, the shorter story, no love, no glory . . . the link plays "Cannonball," but whatever)

3. "Let Your Loss Be Your Lesson," Robert Plant & Alison Krauss (Heaven knows how much I cry)

4. "The Long Ride Home," Patty Griffin (Pretty sure this describes the journey back to Chicago yesterday)

5. "Ain't No Reason," Brett Dennen (There ain't no reason things are this way, that's how they always been and they intend to stay.)

6. "At My Window, Sad and Lonely," Billy Bragg & Wilco (But remember, I will love you 'til I die)

7. "How Come," Ray LaMontagne (Everybody on a shoestring, everybody in a hole)

8. "I Don't Know," Lisa Hannigan (I don't know what you smoke.)

9. "Out Loud," Mindy Smith (It's no wonder that we're sinking down.)

10. "Wrecking Ball," Gillian Welch (Too much trouble for me to shake. Oh, the weather and the blinded ache)

So that's it. Put "Go Cubs Go" into your iPod Genius machine and listen to the steady stream of sorrow pour into your soul. Obviously it helps if you have some related music, but I'd love to hear what bleeds from your iTunes when you do the same.

Improbable Ray of Sunshine (from MB)

I was plenty bummed about last night's Cubbie bout of déjà lose. Great pitching performance. Lousy offensive showing. Broken record (and not the steroid-induced kind). The most words I could come up with to describe it was a solitary tweet (feel free to follow me, Adambuckled, on Twitter, by the way).

But now I'm feeling up to a few more than 140 characters thanks to the memory of one ultimately insignificant play (a non-play, really) from last night's game and a bit of hopeful news heading into today's mid-day dust-up with the 'Stros.

Late in Wednesday night's game, Milton Bradley went sliding awkwardly into the right-field wall in foul territory at Minute Maid. It looked like a potential season-ender the way Bradley's luck goes. But he was alright. Most tweets I saw reflected my initial reaction, too: can you try just a little harder not to get hurt, you overpaid lummox?

After a good night's sleep, though, I think I was wrong. Bradley's defense has looked pretty good these past couple of games. He's made a couple of diving catches despite his sore ego knee quad shoulder hamstring -ness. More than that, Bradley's reckless slide into the wall showed me one thing I can no longer question:

The dude's trying.

Milton Bradley is trying really hard to get better. Probably too hard. That kind of effort and desire deserves to be applauded. And apparently Lou has more than just a pat on the fanny in store for his surliness. The Cubs Web site is reporting that Lou spotted something in Bradley's swing that just may right the ship.

So Bradley's trying. Lou's helping. Let's hope it all works and that the Cubs can make Steve Goodman a prophet once again.

Cubs Stat of the Week: Ryan Theriot on 3-0

Ryan Theriot has never made an out on a 3-0 pitch.

Ever.

When I started looking up an intriguing Cubs stat for this week, I was hoping to find a revelation in Theriot's average with two strikes. His career average in that situation isn't bad (.233) but it's not great this year (.171). And then I stumbled upon something I had never even considered:

You don't want to go to 3-0 on anybody, especially not The Riot. 

In his relatively short career, Theriot has faced a 3-0 count 89 times. And in those 89 career 3-0 counts, Theriot has never made an out on a 3-0 pitch. Actually, he's never even put such a pitch in play. 

That's right. Ryan Theriot has exactly Zero point Zero Zero official at-bats on 3-0 counts. He has had 34 plate appearances decided by a 3-0 pitch, and all 34 have been walks (three of them intentional). I can't exactly say the stat gets better (how can you improve on a 1.000 OBP?) but Theriot's career performance after a 3-0 pitch continues to impress.

In his 89 career plate appearances that began with three straight balls, Theriot has drawn 60 walks. Of the 29 remaining at bats, Theriot has 11 hits, five of them doubles (.379 BA, .552 SLG). But the overwhelming majority of the time (roughly 2/3), when Theriot reaches a 3-0 count, he draws a walk on his way to a .798 OBP after 3-0 counts. 

When Theriot works a 3-ball count of any kind, good things happen. He has a .323 BA, a .631 OBP, and a 1.088 OPS. So how does Theriot compare to the rest of baseball?

In 2009, Major League hitters put almost 5% of 3-0 pitches in play (compared to Theriot's career 0% rate). Here's the general breakdown of Theriot vs. the ML average:

After a 3-0 Count

MLB: .267 BA, .759 OBP, 1.220 OPS

Theriot: .379 BA, .798 OBP, 1.349 OPS

With Three Balls, Any Number of Strikes

MLB: .259 BA, .593 OBP, 1.029 OPS

Theriot:  .323 BA, .631 OBP, 1.088 OPS

This definitely reinforces my opinion that Theriot uses the count to his advantage as well as just about anybody in the game. He just has an impeccable sense of modifying his approach as his at-bats go along. That's why I love watching Theriot at the plate, because he is a textbook example of how to approach each pitch.

Long story short: throw strikes to The Riot, or he'll make you pay.

Stats courtesy of baseball-reference.com.

What does it mean to be a Cubs fan?

On yesterday's episode, Lou and Sheps over at Cubscast had an interesting discussion about one listener's criticism of a disgusted, tirade-filled cast that spilled out into the podcast world earlier in the week.

The fan's criticism in a nutshell was this: I'm tired of listening to you guys whine and rant about the Cubs. That's behavior befitting of Yankee and Red Sox fans. Not Cub fans; we love our team no matter what.

Sheps' response, in essence, was as follows: It's stupid to love a team no matter what. If the Cubs stink, it's your duty to complain, not lead cheers while the players and front office stink up the place.

If you've ever peeked at my Cubs bio, you probably know how I feel about this one. I believe love for the Cubs or any team should be pretty much unconditional. If you stop being a fan when your team stinks, you're a fair-weather fan. I've heard countless people argue against that statement, but they all amount to the same steaming pile of Cardinal. Liking a team only when they're good is the very definition of fair-weather fan.

Plain and simple, I have no respect for fair-weather fans.

That being said, there's a difference between staying true to (or loving, if you want to call it that, Cub lovers) a team and not criticizing a team. There's a middle ground between unconditional fandom and happy-go-lucky idiocy.

When the Cub defense and bullpen conspired to blow Randy Wells' stellar performance and potential 1st career win yet again, I was real angry. We're talking cartoon fumes pouring out the sides of my bright-red face. 

But I'm still loyal, even when I'm not happy with the Cubs. I try to keep a short leash on my complaints about the Cubs because I have nothing else to cheer for. I have no control over who plays, who they trade, how they play, or anything. When the team functions well, I'm happy. When they don't, I'm out of luck. 

Call me an idiot for my blind allegiance, but complaining and booing, for the most part, is the stuff of idiots.

The guy who complains at length usually believes his complaints will have some effect on the decisions Lou and Jim Hendry make. The booing fan seems to think she can alter the performance or somehow erase the existence of the player she's deriding. The person who jumps ship to cheer for another team? Good riddance.

All these people are deluded. Maybe I am too, but at least I'm loyal.

So complain away, boo away, or just go away. But don't kid yourself into thinking that anyone's really listening. I know I'm not.

Day-Off Reflections: 1985

From a health perspective, 2009 is all-too reminiscint of 1985, the ill-fated season when the Cubs saw four of their starting pitchers wailing in DL agony at the same time. It was the year of the Shawon-O-Meter. It was also the year that I, a young Cub fan, came to grips with the reality that had been brewing for the better part of 8 decades: 

In 1985, I understood what the Curse was all about.

The 1985 Cubs became, for me, the prototype for all other Cub failures. '84 was magical (give or take a groundball through Leon Durham's legs and a Steve Garvey child-support homer). The acute heartbreak of playoff loss would come but once or twice a decade. But the undulating suffering of a losing season punctuated with small swells of hope and victory . . . that chronic, unyielding ache began in '85 and has surged mercilessly forward ever since.

But '85 might turn out to be the mirror image of '09. In '85 it was the pitching staff that broke under the weight of injury. They had 13 pitchers start games for them that year, which is just brutal. This year the injuries are more offensive in nature (not completely) as the Cubs have already seen 6 All Stars (Milton Bradley, Aramis Ramirez, Derrek Lee, Geovany Soto, Carlos Zambrano, Carlos Marmol) miss games due to injury . . . anyone else surprised not to see Soriano on that list?

While the '85 team was second from the bottom in the NL for team ERA, this year's pitchers are at the middle of the pack. The '85 bats were solid, leading the league in slugging and OPS. This year? The Cubbies are in the bottom half in almost every significant offensive category.

But this year's story isn't written. And I'm left to ponder which is better: the stabbing pain of a postseason Cub-cardiac arrest, or the throbbing ache of a slow, regular season death?

Stab me, Cubbies. Stab me good.