Hey there, dust covers. Unless you’ve been vacationing on Jupiter, you know that it’s Spring Training time in Mesa. (Everywhere else, too, but Mesa is the only place that matters.) So, while the Cubbies are doing wind sprints, practicing pick-offs, and are still tied for first, I thought it would only be fair that you and me got into ‘fan shape’. And I’m not talking about wait-until-next-year shape. I’m talkin’ about in-your-face, trash-talkin’, we’re-not-gonna-take-this-gettin’-broomed-in-the-playoffs-crap-anymore shape. WARNING: Do not drive or operate heavy machinery for 12 hours afterwards.
Alright, Step 1) Pour yourself a nice, frosty adult beverage — Old Style if you got it — and put that La-Z-Boy in full recline, my friend. This step is actually common to many important activities, and happens to be one of my favorite parts of gettin’ in fan shape, because I get to make those faux farting noises that accompany even the slightest butt adjustment against my chair’s fine corinthian leather. Always entertaining.
Step 2) Prepare your mind. (Only natural since baseball—unlike football—is a thinking man’s sport.) Try and clear out everything you got running round in your head. You Sports Illustrated subscribers get an extra couple of minutes to get rid of page 57 of the Swimsuit Edition. Once your head is completely empty, and the beer has started to take effect, you’re ready for step 3. You’ll also know what it’s like to be a Dodgers Fan. But I digress.
Step 3) Fill the void with a jumbotron-sized, slow-motion, 2003 instant replay of Steve Friggin’ Bartman. (That is his middle name, right?) And set it to loop over and over and over. If you start to get hot, it’s ok. That’s normal.
Step 4) While this motivational video plays in the background, start thinking about all of the great achievements of the past 100 years. Among other things, this would include the following: The automobile. And the airplane. Television, telephones, computers and the electric garage door opener. You got Einstein’s General and Special Theories of Relativity. Both of ’em. There’s Dove Bars and air conditioning. And Hooters. There’s the assembly line and the bikini and, oh my God … Playstation. I love Playstation! The Sears Tower went up. (That’s what it was called then, and I don’t care who owns it now, it’s still the Sears Tower to me.) The Berlin Wall came down. On the medical front there’s that special gift to Yankees fans — penicillin. And, uh, Viagra for White Sox fans. And there’s the heart transplant (that I now need after the Mets ripped mine out last September). Did I mention the bikini? Let’s see … we’ve had guys standing on the top of Mt. Everest, and other guys hittin’ golf balls on the moon and, hell, we got us an African American for President. We’ve had all that in the last hundred years. Oh, and Halley’s frickin’ Comet? It’s been by TWICE my friend. Twice.
Step 5) Addendum to Step 4. While you’re thinking about all that (it has to be done simultaneously), ask yourself this: Do we have even one … just one … Cubs World Series championship? Noooooooooooooooooo. You know, I feel compelled to mention here that the friggin’ Marlins have TWO of them. And they’ve been a team for like 4-1/2 minutes! And in just the last 10 years, the Cardinals scored 2 rings (including the pathetic ’06 team), the Red Sox — who have stunk almost as much as we have — won it twice more, the Giants have won it 3 times, and last year the damn Royals won it. You go back one extra year and even the White Sox won it. Let me say that again; the … White … Sox … won … it.
The Cubs? Nothin’.
Step 6) Status check. Take the nearest Cubs logo into the bathroom and look in the mirror. If your face matches the red part, you’re in Cubs fan shape, my friend. You’re also probably dangerously close to a heart attack, so while you’re in the bathroom, grab a couple of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and wash ’em down with the last of your beer.
You, my friend, are now ready for the season. Question is, will the Cubbies be ready?
Hey there, hardhats. Welcome to the Joe Sez blog; a place where I get to say whatever the hell I want. You got a problem with something I said? Well get it off your chest, pallie. I welcome that fluff you call chin music. You agree with me? I only got one thing to say to that: Great minds think alike, my friend.
You wanna weigh in on instant replay, or the idiotic trip-to-the-mound clock (This is baseball not football, Manfred), or that sissy Designated Hitter abomination, or if there are corn dogs should there be corn brats (no) … then you’ve come to the right place. Just keep it reasonably clean so the Little Leaguers’ moms don’t have a friggin’ cow. Or sue my ass.
Nearly every time Donald Trump opens his word-salad mouth, he should get a sharp pain in whatever region of his brain still works.
Is this guy for real? You’d think he would have more important things on his mind than the Cubs, right? Stuff like Hillary Clinton, David Duke, his hair, the size of his hands … you know … presidential stuff. But noooooooo. In addition to all the other grenades the Donald has been tossing in every direction imaginable, he’s now threatening the Ricketts family for makin’ a donation to a super-PAC that would rather see someone … ANYONE else … be president. And really, do we want a POTUS that doesn’t understand the fundamental meaning of the First Amendment? What a pinhead.
Wow. If I didn’t know that I’m waaaaaaaaaaaay better looking than Goose “f–king” Gossage, I’d think this was ME spewing all the venom in this article. Or maybe Donald Trump.
Honestly (and is there any other way to be?) I’ve gotta agree with the Goose on some of this stuff. Baseball is turning into some sort of namby-pamby, cotton candy sucking stage for guys who act like hitting a home run (read: doing their job) is the same as curing cancer. I can’t imagine what my boss would do if I stood back and admired every package of hot links I loaded on a palette. Well, actually, I can. He’d fire my bat-flipping ass. Anyway, Goose is right; MLB is trying to morph baseball into football (or an equally wimpy facsimile thereof). I mean we’ve got a clock, we’ve got new rules for sliding at 2nd … Won’t be long before runners get to advance one base cuz “Hey, I don’t like the way that pitcher looked at me!” Friggin’ pathetic.
That’s not what’s chapping my backside, though. What’s rubbing me like the matted fur on a mangy dog is Bryce Harper’s take on “the excitement of the young guys who are coming into the game.” Harper tries to make the point that baseball used to be boring (wrong!) but guys like Matt Harvey, Manny Machado, Joc Pederson, McCutchen and Puig are bring ‘flair’ to the game. Ok, first of all, two of those guys are Mets. That’s a problem already. (To channel the Goose for a moment here, what is a f–king Met, anyway?) Second, is there a single Cubs player on Harper’s list? Does he mention Bryant or Fowler? How about Rizzo? What about Jorge Solar? And what the F about Kyle “My Real Name Is Babe Ruth” Schwarber?! I mean seriously?!
This just goes to show that, in general, morons should just keep their mouths shut and, in this particular case, play ball for the Nationals.
Hey there, filibusters, Joe Schlombowski, here. In my best Donald Trump voice, I want to tell you that the new Joe’s Bleachers website is gonna be great. It’s gonna be fantastic. It’s gonna be really, really great. Believe me. No one will have a website like Joe’s Bleachers and everybody is going to love it. It’s gonna be one of a kind and totally unique. I mean it’s going to be amazing.
Only the blog is up and running now, but the rest of the site is under construction. I’ve hired the best digital people in America, the best money can buy, and believe me no one is even in their league, they’re so good. I’ll let you know when the site is ready, which will be very soon. As soon as we think it’s ready … ready for you and the rest of the American people. And especially Cubs fans, who are the BEST fans in baseball. In ANY sport, they’re the best. Nobody has better fans. And they deserve the best, which is why I’m having my people (who are also the best, by the way) build it for me. It’s going to be great. There won’t be anything like it in Chicago, or even in the world, believe me.
So take a knee, sports pundits, cuz the rest of the site will be ready in almost no time. And when it is — I think by the All Star break … my people are looking into it … but soon — you’re gonna love it. I love it, and believe me I know what I’m talking about.