Hey there, cheese steaks, Joe Schlombowski, here. Unlike you Arrieta groupies out there — and you know who you are, my friends — I seem to have developed some sorta rash. Yep, now that the bearded J is wearin’ that stupid friggin’ liberty bell on his head, I get what I’d call “free clinic” symptoms every time (enter name of sports media conglomerate here) mentions his name. Let’s call it Gonorrhieta.

Gonorrhieta is a baseball transmitted disease (BTD). No, White Sox fans, you can’t get it from bleacher seats. You get from having a baseball fan’s love affair with any major league pitcher named Jake Arrieta who decides to walk out on you (putting the “gone” in Gonorrhieta) even though management was willing to stuff $27.5 million down his jock strap each of the next four years. Some people call it “the clap.” And while there was plenty of well-deserved clappin’ going on when he donned Cubbie blue, Arrieta’s departure for redder pastures is definitely causin’ some pain in places too dark and waaaaayyyy too sensitive to mention in this august rag. Not because he’s gone, but because he definitely chose to be gone.

The Cubs 4-year, $100 million offer was one year longer and $35 million more than what he took from the Phillies. Now I don’t know about you, but I can feel that decision in a part of my anatomy that’s reserved for Dr Golberg and his latex glove.

I’m tempted to blame Scott Boras, cuz I friggin’ can’t stand what he and the other vermin that represent ballplayers have done to baseball. But like Steve Rosenbloom pointed out in the Trib today, Boras or not, it was up to “Arrieta to say deal or no deal, and when it came to the Cubs, Arrieta said no deal.”

After signing on the line which is dotted, Arrieta said, “This is a special situation for me. It’s a tremendous honor and I look forward to making this organization proud.” OH MY FRIGGIN’ GOD! The guy goes 22-6 and wins a Cy Young in 2015, then helps end the longest championship drought in the history of history when the Cubs win the ’16 Series…and now I’m supposed to believe that goin’ to a team with a 66-96 record last year is “special?!”

Bite me, Jake.

Straight up. I’m never gonna win a Fields Medal. But I know enough about math to know this: If Arrieta, or Phillies management or the drooling sub-creatures that fill Citizen’s Bank Park (Rolls off the tongue like peanut butter coated duct tape, don’t it?) think they’re gonna turn that 66 upside-down with the addition of said fireballer, they better break out their calculators cuz their missin’ a decimal point or two. Arrieta would have to win 33 games…and do it with a team that ranked 27th in offensive production last season. There’s a better chance of Scarlett Johansson scrubbin’ my backside in the shower tomorrow morning.

So I say good riddance to Jake the Snake, who apparently so badly wanted outta Chicago that he took a deal that two years ago he wouldn’t have pissed on. Especially if he had Gonorrhieta, cuz it burns like hell when you do that.

Joe

PS. Here’s hoping for a butt-load of bell ringin’ when Arrieta takes the mound against us, my friends.