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THE LYNYRD SKYNYRD GAME 3 SUMMARY: “OOOH THAT SMELL. CAN’T YOU SMELL THAT SMELL?”

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez, The Playoffs · , , , , , , , , , ,

NLCS-GAME-3-CUBS-DODGERS

Was that the Chicago Cubs I saw in Dodger Stadium tonight, or a Sears tower-sized turd? I think the latter.

At first, when the whole pre-game thing filled the ball park with instant smog, just to remind everyone where the hell we were, I thought maybe that was makin’ our guy’s eyeballs water, which would explain why they were havin’ so much trouble seein’ the ball. But as the game wore on, it became apparent that what was really happening was the Cubs has succumbed to the whole “Hey, look, Larry King is sittin’ like … RIGHT THERE” thing. Whatever it was, stars or smog in the eyes, Chicago swung the bat tonight like Helen Keller. Blindfolded. I kept hopin’ LA would put a 10 year old girl in to pitch, cuz I know we couldn’t get a hit off a 12 year old one.

It pretty much went like that for most of the night. Then, in a move that makes about as much sense as Donald Trump, Maddon decides it’d be a good idea to pinch hit Heyward for Russell in the 7th. I grant you, right now Addi with a bat in his hand is about as dangerous as Mother Theresa. But I’m at a total loss to explain Heyward as the stick of the moment. You have Wilson Contreras on the bench, who can actually make contact with the friggin’ ball, by the way, but Joe goes with the most over-paid, underperforming player in Major League Baseball. You pull one no-hit bat (Russell) for another, and what happens? What the F do you think happens? He watches a strike 2 meatball go by that Louis Braille woulda tattooed, then wildly swings like a kid at a piñata party at a pitch that was in the next time zone. What’s the logic, Joe?

We can’t even get a friggin’ sacrifice when we need one. Of course if it were up to me, we’d tie Kershaw down on a makeshift altar, sprinkle him with a little Beverly Hills poodle blood or somethin’ and set his ass on fire. There’s your sacrifice, pallie. Maybe that would appease the baseball gods, which seem to be extraordinarily pissed off at the Cubs right now. Even if it didn’t, we’d have at least done something to help our chances against these Hollywood yayhoos.

Rizzo’s 9th inning stroke-of-luck, broken bat, squeeker of a hit was a symbol of what Chicago’s offense has been throughout the playoffs — a shattered remnant of it’s former self. That hit — and it was a helluva lot more like a 50 foot putt than a batted ball — brings Rizzo’s average up to a scorching .077. Watch out!

The Cubs have now gone 18 consecutive playoff innings without crossin’ the plate. Besides being a King Kong-sized, steaming pile of inept crap, that means our offense just broke their previous playoff record of 16 scoreless innings, set during the 1906 World Series … which we lost. I’m just sayin’. When your season is only 7 games long, maybe less, you can only go so far if you can’t hit the damn ball. There aren’t another 155 games to even out the slumps. If the Cubs wanna have a chance at puttin’ the curse to rest, it’s time they started swingin’ the bat like the Chicago friggin’ Cubs, not the Elmhurst Little League Cubs. No offense, Elmhurst.

Joe

Tonight’s fun facts: There are no fun facts tonight. There are facts, but none of ’em are fun. 1) The Cubs were 4 for 31 tonight. 2) We struck out 10 times. 3) We also left 11 guys on base. See what I mean? No fun.

WILLSON CONTRERAS DOES THE NO JOKIE HOKIE POKIE.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez, News ·

 

CONTRERAS-JEWELS

Gettin’ smacked in the jewels is no picnic. It’s not even a leftover bowl of little Doritos scraps, so I can only imagine how Willson Contreras musta felt when he got a foul tip off of his foul tip. I money-back guarantee you that every single guy that saw that play made one of those “ouch” faces, with teeth clenched, and where the eyes squint like somebody just emptied a couple of lemons in ’em. It’s a universal reaction to seeing that happen to somebody, cuz we’ve all been there. Maybe not with a baseball, but if you hit ground zero with a bean bag, it’s gonna hurt.

What’s not universal is the way Contreras was breakdancin’ all over the infield tryin’ to shake it off. That was totally new territory, my friend. Most guys — like 90 out of a 100 — are just gonna go fetal position. Another 9 are gonna LeBron James it — whaling like the Mountain just whacked off an arm or something. Contreras, on the other hand, looked like he was tryin’ to get a shot on Dancin’ With the Stars, shakin’ and bakin’ like the boogie woogie bugle boy. It’s only a matter of time before somebody with not enough to do sets it to music and throws it up on YouTube. Can’t wait.

The weird thing about this play — and I think this is universal, too — is that about 6 seconds after it happened, and I’m finished makin’ my “ouch” face, I started to laugh. Yeah … like I already said, it hurts like a (nasty word of choice here). As guys, we know that. But if it ain’t you, it’s funny. Especially with that Jupiter Walk (like the Moon Walk only way way further out in space) Contreras laid on us.

Anyway, I felt bad for him. As bad as everyone in the Cubs dugout, anyway.

Joe