2016 Cubs

IT’S NEVER FASHIONABLE TO LOSE. ESPECIALLY TO THE CARDS.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez, News · , ,

LOSING-FASHION

Hey there, rice cakes. The Cubs were swept by the Cards yesterday. (Yeeaacchhh! Man, those words taste like a giant turd hoagie.) The reason why seems apparent to me, and it’s got nothin’ to do with talent. Talent we got. Heart we got. Spirit we got. Youth we got. Pitching we got. The mixing bowl runneth over, so to speak, so what in the helllllllll happened over the last 3 days then?

I think most guys are gonna say that baseball happened, and losin’ a few in a row is no reason to call out the National Guard. And I get that. The first two games were close; coulda gone either way. We make a couple of mistakes … don’t take advantage of some opportunities … that’s baseball. But what happened yesterday was a friggin’ cake disaster. It was the baseball equivalent of opening the G-D oven door on a half baked angel food. Pfffffffft. Flat as a pancake, pal. I’ve done that a couple of times myself — with a real cake — and it’s never failed to turn the missus into Mr Hyde. Why? Cuz it’s 100% avoidable, and each time it’s been the result of me positioning my head for a really good view of my lower intestines. (Note: Not to be confused with being a White Sox fan.)

Not keepin’ your eye on the ball doesn’t work out too well in baseball. That goes for off the field, too. And it’s that kinda crapola, in my less than humble opinion, that had the Cubs quietly slinking out the back door of Wrigley after gettin’ swept in the finale with the Cards.

Only they weren’t doin’ it quietly. No sir-eee. In fact, they headed for Miami lookin’ a lot more like the cake display at 31 Flavors than a Major League baseball team. Seriously, there are only two things in the world the color of Maddon’s suit; Play Doh and Lady Gaga’s fingernails. Apparently, this was some sorta theme trip; one of Maddon’s ideas, I guess to keep things lose in the clubhouse. But here’s the thing: 1) They weren’t in the clubhouse. 2) They play a game for a living, and if you can’t be loose when you’re makin’ silly money playin’ a game, then dressing up like pimps ain’t gonna help much. And 3) acting like a bunch of teenage girlies when you haven’t won the Series since the Ottoman Empire was in power is flat out tempting fate, my friend. I think if you’re the Yankees then, yeah … there was a time when you could get away with that. The Giants have won 3 championships in 6 years. They could get away with it, too. But the Cubs? Maybe it’s just me, but I think you gotta earn the right to be colorful by demonstrating your mastery of the game. You win a ring, you can dress like Liberace all you want. But until you decorate your finger, it just means you’re unfocused.

And that’s the point. If you’re the Cubs, it should make you physically ill to drop 3 in a row to your arch rivals. You should be mega-pissed off … and playin’ dress up should definitely NOT be on the line-up card. Neither should posing nude for ESPN the Magazine, or, if you’re a pitcher, lobbying for a spot in the All Star break’s Home Run Derby. I mean really … the season ain’t even half over yet and what I’ve been seein’ is a team — and a few players in particular — who act like winning the Series is a foregone conclusion. I don’t care that they have the best record in baseball. That doesn’t last if they’re not focused, or if they’ve forgotten that it’s been 108 years since they showered in champagne.

It’s not fun to lose boys, not if you’re a fan anyway. And it’s definitely not fashionable. You wanna clown around, play Pretty Pretty Princess, become Playmate of the Month? Fine. You’ll be golfing in October … like usual.

Ask yourselves this: Would Ernie do it? If the answer is “no”, then don’t.

Joe

AND NOW … THE WEATHER.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · ,

HURRICAN-HARRY

Hey there, sponge cakes, Joe Schlombowski, unofficial Cubs weatherman here, reporting on location from the apparent source of global warming; Jake Arrieta’s right arm. The human funnel cloud leveled everything in his path today, taking his record to 11-1; best in the National League. In weather terms, Arrieta’s got some kinda convection thing going; a transfer of some serious heat; updrafts and downdrafts which make for a pretty unstable atmosphere around home plate, my friend.

I’m no meteorologist — and what do meteors have to do with the weather anyway, I’d like to know — but it doesn’t take a guy with a weather map to see that the jumbo-sized WWF smackdown the Cubs are unleashing on the rest of baseball this year is lookin’ one helluva lot like a Cat 5 hurricane. In fact, you know how hurricanes get names like Isabel, Alex, Bonnie … Fred maybe? Well, I’m thinkin’ what we got here oughta go by Harry, in honor of the best baseball broadcaster to ever utter the words, “Holy Cow!”

Lemme just digress here for a moment and say that I don’t get the whole naming thing. I mean, naming I get, but wouldn’t you wanna name hurricanes after people you DON’T like, instead of just regular people. Hurricane Hitler or hurricane Saddam or hurricane bin Laden seem more along the lines of appropriate names for a hurricane. How ’bout Blogojevich? Yeah, I like that one. Maybe Hillary. I’d say Trump, but he’s just a prevailing wind; a lot of hot air but not much else. Anyway … back to Harry.

What’s curious about Harry, is that unlike every other hurricane ever recorded, it’s pretty much 72 and sunny wherever the Cubs happen to be, while just across the diamond — literally, like as far as Robbie Alomar can spit — it’s time to climb down into the storm cellar and wait it out. It’s definitely some kind of baseball version of wind shear mixed with a large Canadian low or somethin’. Whatever the hell it is, I friggin’ love it. It’s beach weather for Cubs fans, for sure.

So, the extended forecast is lookin’ good. Let’s hope hurricane Harry doesn’t blow itself out.

Joe

CHRIS COGHLAN RETURNS TO CHICAGO. WHY?

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez, News, Trades · , , ,

CHRIS-COGHLAN-RETURNS

Hey there, flap jacks. I freely admit that I’m not ever 100% sure what Theo is doin’. Hell, I’m not even 27% sure. But then that’s why he’s runnin’ the best baseball team in an 800 light year radius and I work in a sausage factory. I’m not complaining. Me and sausage are like Bert and Ernie, milk and cookies, Rogers and Hammerstein. But I think we can all agree that runnin’ the Cubs is a better gig, and definitely comes with the kinda fringe that puts my annual Christmas bonus case of red hots on the top of the shame pile. And hey, kudos to Theo. The Cubbies are treating the rest of baseball like a baby treats a diaper. Love it.

But this Shalamar trade with the A’s for Chris Coghlan? I don’t get it.

Why trade for a .260 hitter? (Only a .146 hitter if you’re talkin’ just this year in Oakland.) Does the name Mendoza ring any bells? Yeah, I know … the Cubs have a few banged up guys, and a little backup will help get us over the aches and pains. But c’mon. Coghlan … that’s it? Mmm-kay, he knows the system. I’ll give you that one. He can play a few different positions. Especially the 7 and 9 spots where, with Schwarber gone for the duration, Soler hurt and Heyward outta the lineup occasionally cuz of his Ironman imitations, he can band-aid things for us. Versatility is good. But if he’s SO friggin’ good why the hell did we broom him in the first place? Riddle me that, Batman. (Hey, me and sausage are like Batman and Robin, too.) It’s got a bit of odoriferous desperation to it, which I hate smelling … not because it’s questionalble … but because Theo made the move even though it seems that way.

This is where me not being even 27% sure what the hell Theo is doin’ sandpapers my hiney. Cuz either I gotta just bow to the altar of Theo’s brain, and trust that he knows somethin’ about Coghlan that ain’t very apparent in his numbers, or there’s somethin’ happening around the corner that no one but Theo can see, and he’s layin’ the ground work for it. I hate friggin’ uncertainty. For the first 54 years of my life I could count on the Cubs being 20 games out by the mid-season classic. This year and last, I’m surprised if we lose. I like that. I don’t like wonderin’ what the Cubs see in a .146 hitter that they traded less than a year ago. Now there’s something magically delicious about him?

Is it gonna be better the second time? We’ll see. I love the taste of crow (or pigeon, in this case) when it comes to this kinda thing.

Joe

DRAUGHT TIME. YES, I SPELLED IT CORRECTLY.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · , , ,

2016-BASEBALL-DRAFT

Life is good, Cubcakes. I used to wake up, slide out of the fart sack and pray to the Polish gods that we might actually win a game. Now? Well, I can’t wait to jump out of … of … okay, it’s still a fart sack (hey, I drink Old Style and eat Red Hots from a Pez dispenser, what’d you expect?) then pay my respects to Joe-Joe Maddon, the Polish god IN OUR DUGOUT, and wonder not if were gonna win today, but by how much. Yep, life is good north of a .700 winning percentage.

But let’s put the present aside for sec, uhm-kay? With the 2016 MLB Amateur Draft starting today, June 9 is all about the future: the stars of tomorrow that will lead each club to the Promised Land.

Or so they hope.

It ain’t that easy, Moses. I mean, who in the wide, wide world of sports can forget Shawn Abner? Just about everyone, that’s who! Abner was the first pick in the ’84 draft, ahead of guys named Bell and McGwire and Mullholland and Charlton and Maddux and Glavine and Moyer. Hearda them? Save for his mother and a handful of pals he grew up playing Whiffle Ball with in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, Smokin’ Joe Schlombowski is one of the few people on the planet who remembers if Abner knew which end of the bat to hold. He did, but barely. Point is, first-round picks ain’t a sure thing.

Good thing, too, cuz thanks to John Lackey, we don’t get one.

That’s right, bat racks, the draft wheel will turn nearly three full times before the Cubbies make their first pick — the 104th overall. Hell, I could be dead by then. Like all sports drafts that matter, clubs pick in reverse order of their previous season’s finish, which is why the Phillies get first whack this year, and why Braves and Twins scouts, caffeine-high as they’ll need to be, are already hittin’ the road with an eye on the 2017 class. There will be no rest in the Big Peach or the North Star State for at least a year. Makes me feel all tingly inside.

Theoretically, the Phillies would get the first pick in all forty rounds. But then there’s this thing called “compensation picks” which turns the draft order into somethin’ that resembles the Christmas lights I unpack on Thanksgiving Day. This year, we gave up our first two picks to the Cards when Theo signed the Dental Giant and Jason Heyward. I get that. But someone’s gotta explain to me why MLB rewards teams by givin’ them preferred draft spots for not signing their top picks from last year’s draft. Makes zero sense to me, but then Carlos Marmol couldn’t close a a friggin’ umbrella either, and we paid him $9.8M in 2013. Idi-friggin-otic.

But I digress.

The point is, don’t put too much stock in this week’s draft, pallie. We’ve only got five first-rounders on our 25-man roster. And we sure as hell ain’t home grown (only four Cubs were drafted into the organization). Like it or not, it ain’t Ernie’s Cubs anymore. Free agency’s our thing. We’ve got money and we spend it like Jason Kidd at the Pink Monkey. Enough with the future; it’s draught time, as in icy cold Old Style. Now, where’d the missus hide the remote?

Joe

ZERO, ZILCH, ZIP, NADA AND GOOSE EGGS. NOT TO MENTION DONUTS (OR DOUGHNUTS).

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · , ,

DONUT

Hey there, crullers. Joe Schlombowski, super Cubs fan here, reminding you that today is National Donut Day. Or “Doughnut” Day. I’d usually take a stand on an issue like that, but the pure, orgasmic pleasure that defines one of these epicurean delights is all that matters. Arguing over that is like arguing over whether an ump missed a call cuz he forgot his white cane or his seeing eye dog. Anyway, today you should honor the little powdered or glazed or old fashioned wheels of pleasure by consuming as many as possible. In my case that would be just enough to not quite ruin my appetite for a few game day Chicago dogs. Not that the Snakes tend to upset my stomach like, say, the Mets do, but I also gotta think about my Schlombowskish figure.

Anyway, the whole reason I bring up Donut (or Doughnut) Day in the first place is cuz, so far this year, the Cubs have dished out 363 zeros to opposing teams. That’s 363 innings that the long, long line of highly-paid, bat-flippin’, best-on-planet-Earth Major League hitters have been stuffed by our staff and the marauding defense that hunts down and destroys anything they accidentally get their bats on. 363 zeros in the box score. 363 donuts (or doughnuts). Call ’em what you will — zeros, goose eggs, ohs, whatever — while Cubs bats have been channeling Babe Ruth, Ted Williams and Willy Mays all rolled into one three-headed monster of ka-boom, our defense has been handing out donuts (or doughnuts) like it’s some kinda Good Samaritan thing.

You know how one of the traditions at Wrigley is throwin’ any opposition’s dingers back, like they’re contaminated (which they are)? Well, I’m thinkin’ that today we pelt the Snakes with donuts (or doughnuts) every inning they get zeroed. What do you say, Chicago?

Joe