Joe Sez

KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez ·

 

Unless you’re from another planet (Mets fans, I’m talking to you), you understand that the Cubs have a pretty friggin’ good chance of making the Series this season. We’ve lost Schwarber to a freak accident which ain’t good, but still, outta the billions and billions of stars out there I’m thinking there’s only one or two that are out of alignment. I’d almost be willing to say it’s our destiny to win the last game of the playoffs this year. Almost.

There’s still this very small but nagging thing in the back of my head, though. It’s like when you’re eatin’ a PB&J sammy and you get a raspberry seed stuck between your teeth. It’s delicious, but you can’t fully enjoy it cuz of that stupid seed. And you can’t get it out. It drives me friggin’ nuts. It’s Bartman. I know, I know, there was no sign of him last year, but I can just see him lurking in the shadows … with his mitt.

The missus says I’m like a dog with a bone with this Bartman thing, and that I’m cuttin’ years off my life by letting it stew for so long. She’s right, I know. But then, if the fully loaded barge of encased meat products I’ve eaten, and that cheese sauce on the ball park nachos (it looks like it’s radio active or something) haven’t corked up the old arteries yet, I think I can handle a few more years of pointing the finger at Bartman. I’ll get over it one day. Maybe. But for now, keep your eyes peeled. And if you do see him, please give him the official Bartman Welcome.

Joe

HOW TO DINE IN THE CHEAP SEATS.

· Ballpark Food, Joe Sez · , ,

CHICAGO-DOG

Hey there, rice cakes. Joe Schlombowski, super Cubs fan here, with a little dietary supplement you ain’t gonna find on the Food Network.

Let me say first off that outside of the official Major League Rule Book (which ain’t perfect, cuz it includes Rule 6.10 — look it up, Tin Roof) I’m not real big on rules. I’m more of a “guideline” kinda guy. Why? Cuz they’re practically the same damn thing, but guidelines are more forgiving. Like jeans with an elastic waste band.

Which brings me to the subject at hand: The Cubs are home; back in town sporting a 6-1 record, by the way. This means a lot of you will be heading to the yard, not just to see Maddon’s Mob, but to enjoy the smorgasboard of lip-smackin, finger-lickin, coronary-inducing delights that are a requisite part of going to a ball game. So you don’t embarrass yourself, I give you Joe Schlombowski’s unofficial guidelines for dining in the Cheap Seats — as if anything is actually cheap at Wrigley anymore. (Another subject.) I gotta warn you that these have not been approved by the FDA, nor are they recognized by the American Heart Association. (Hey, sorry about that 3rd person thing I did back there, but it just seemed to make sense in that spot. In general, though, it’s obnoxious. Like A-Rod.) Alright, here you go:

RULE 1.00 – DINING IN THE CHEAP SEATS

1.01 – DON’T DRINK TOO MUCH. People who drink too much act obnoxious and stupid. If I wanted to be around people like that I’d go to a White Sox game. But by all means, have an Old Style or two. Just don’t do it every inning, like I see some idiots do. Besides, if I want my kids to know what an asshole is (along with some of those other words drunks use) I’ll tell ‘em about Barry Bonds.

1.02 – IF SOMETHING COMES WITH THAT MELTED CHEESE CRAP, GET IT. That’s the whole point of melted cheese crap. It’s a cheesy, gooey, yellow dye number 14, lip-smackin, finger-lickin accessory that you can’t order all by itself. Believe me, if you could, I’d bathe in it. So pour it on. Have ‘em make a cheese tsunami out of your nachos. Bury the whole thing. Devour. Repeat.

1.03 – IF IT DOESN’T COME WITH THE CHEESE CRAP, ASK FOR IT ANYWAY. Always ask for the melted cheese crap on your brat, dog or polish, too. Whatever you’re getting. They will probably say “no.” But if they say “yes,” you, my friend, will experience the only epicurean delight equal to or greater than a real live Pamela Anderson lollipop.

1.04 – WIPE YOUR FACE. With a napkin. You want any chance at all with those babes two rows in front of you, you can’t look or act like a slob.

1.05 – DO NOT HAVE A SNACK BEFORE THE GAME. Some people wanna control their appetite at the park, so they eat something before they leave home. Avoid this. The whole point of going to a ball game is to eat unhealthy food, and lots of it. I mean, you could sit at home and catch the game on TV and snack on carrots all you want. But don’t bring that attitude to the ballpark. It can only hurt the team.

1.06 – UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU EXERCISE ON GAME DAY. The physiological effects on your system could interfere with your appetite in a negative way. This could lead to skipping the ice cream drumstick or only having 3 or 4 brats. Unless the Cubs are winning (and, c’mon, that’s a friggin’ crap shoot) there’s nothing like a cafeteria tray of Chicago dogs to keep you in good spirits. (Also see 1.02 and 1.03 above.)

1.07 – NEVER EVER EVER NEVER PUT CATCHUP ON A HOTDOG. Just don’t.

1.08 – IF YOU SEE STEVE BARTMAN LURKING IN THE SHADOWS, it’s your duty to chuck your food at him no matter how long you stood in line to get it. You can always get another Barry Foote or Joe Wallis from Hot Dougs, but there’s only one Steve Bartman. If you can’t make that sacrifice for the team, you don’t belong in the Friendly Confines, pal, let alone Joe’s Bleachers. And … when I say “chuck,” I’m talkin’ Aroldis Chapman, not Tim Wakefield.

1.09 – TIP THE HAWKERS. Yeah, I know it’s already expensive. Cry me a friggin’ river. Those guys are marching up and down the aisles all day long, bringing you whatever you want while your butt sits comfortably on the world’s finest green plastic. A little something extra would be nice. In other words, act like you’re from Chicago, not the Bronx.

1.10 – YOU SHOULD FEEL SICK BEFORE THE END OF THE GAME. If you don’t feel terrible when you leave the ballpark, either the Cubs won or you haven’t been paying attention. If it’s the latter, re-read these guidelines before you go to your next home game, pal.

I’d like to suggest that you print this out and proudly display it on your refrigerator, like it’s one of your kids’ class projects. Then memorize, internalize and utilize. And remember: always ask for the cheese crap.

Joe

THE STRANGE FORCE BEHIND ADDISON RUSSELL.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · ,

ADDISON-RUSSELL-HOME-RUN

Hey there, Ouija boards, Joe Schlombowski here with a little analysis of why Addison Russell was destined to be the hero of last night’s come from behind thumping of the Reds.

Baseball is a sport full of superstitions, right? I mean, you got guys that put on the uni exactly the same way — every item in the same order — when they’re on a hot streak. You’ll also see guys step over the chalk when they’re running on or off the field (which never made sense to me cuz when they’re actually playing they don’t give a crap if they step on the lines). And then you got people like me, who never ever change their underwear in the middle of a winning streak. (The way things are going so far this year, it looks like I’m gonna get a little crispy, now and then.) You also got the curse of the billy goat, and the black cat thing at Wrigley … and let’s not forget Steve Bartman.

So what does this mean? Well, my palm reading friends, it means there are forces at play that effect what happens on the field; forces that have nothing to do with the structure of the game, or the rules, or talent, or reason. How else do you explain Bucky Dent? Because of these forces, you get things like the 2004 Red Sox, who should have and would have collapsed under the weight of a 3 game Yankees lead in the ALCS, but instead magically came back to win it and then … AND THEN … sweep the Cards in the Series! Divine intervention? Mariano Rivera lost his rabbits foot? It was something.

That’s just a smattering of evidence, but it gives you an idea of why Addison Russell — not Rizzo, not Bryant, not Soler — and not some other redwood-sized bat was destined to be the hero of last night’s 2016 home opener.

Here’s my theory: Wrigley Field is located at the intersection of Clark & Addison, right? Is it just a simple coincidence that Russell’s first name happens to be Addison? I think not, pal. And how about “Russell.” That name, in French, means “reddish.” Like the color red. And … we were playing the Reds. That’s just friggin’ spooky. He’s also got a “W” as his middle initial. Case closed, pal.

I don’t think you can argue with this stuff. There are just too many things in baseball that can’t be explained by the analytical mind of Tom Verducci or Joe Posnanski. So, whatever you Cubs fans have been doing for the first week of the season — for instance puttin’ on a sock and a shoe and a sock and a shoe, instead of the socks first and then the shoes, keep it up. It’s working.

Joe

WELCOME HOME, CUBBIES!

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez ·

CHICAGO-HOME-OF-THE-CUBS

Chicago. The second city. The windy city. Whatever you wanna call it, I agree with The Chairman; “It’s my kind of town.”

Chicago has the best architecture. Period. We also have the best hot dogs and the best pizza (deep dish, my friend). There’s the Art Institute, the Bean, and a river winding through downtown that not only changed the direction it flows, but it turns green every year for St. Patrick’s Day. We’ve got Harry Caray’s in Chicago, the Miracle Mile, Rush Street and the El. We used to have Ed Debevic’s and the Sears Tower. Now: no Ed’s and the tower is called Willis Tower. To anyone from Chi-town, though, it’ll always be Sears.

Anyway, we got a lot of great stuff here, pal, more than most cities. But on the very tip top of the pile — above the fact that Michael Jordan became Michael Jordan here, above Mr Mike Ditka and da Bears, above the Green Mill or Buddy Guy’s or Second City — sits the Chicago Cubs and the hallowed confines of Wrigley Field.

I bring this up because today is the home opener between the 5 and 1 north-siders and the who-cares-what-their-record-is Cincinnati Red Stockings. (I like calling ’em by their given name cuz it’s, you know, weird.) Man, it’s nice to have baseball back in Chicago again. And by that I don’t mean it’s nice that it’s baseball season again. (Although it is.) What I mean is that it’s nice to actually have a Major League caliber ball club that calls Wrigley home.

Will this be our year? Does Howdy Doody have wooden balls?

Joe

GAME 6: CUBS 7, D-BACKS UNIFORMS 0.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · ,

DIAMONDBACKS-UNIFORMS

Hey there, rag tops. Not to deviate from the fact that we capped off our road trip with yet another win (7-3 over the snakes … thank you) but I just can’t let this trip slide by without commenting on the abomination that is the D-backs uniforms.

I totally admit that after a game my t-shirt looks like Jackson Pollock attacked me with an economy sized French’s bottle. So who the hell am I to be pointin’ fashion fingers at anyone, right? In my defense, though, I think we all know that encased meats are messy (and delicious) epicurean delights, especially when properly overflowing with every item from the condiment bar. Therefore, getting a little dirty … well … that’s just part of the game, my friend. And I hasten to point out, accidental. (Hey, how’d you like that $10 word, “epicurean”, back there. Didn’t even have to look it up.)

The D-backs uni’s, on the other hand, were a conscious decision. Someone — probably with a white cane — decided it would be a good idea if Major League baseball players looked like they were crushing wine in the club house between innings. I mean what the hell?! Remember the Astros uni’s from the 70’s? Hideous, revolting, butt-friggin-ugly! But compared to these things the Snakes are wearin’, they were like the spring collection of Giorgio Armani. It make me wonder if anyone in the Arizona organization has ever heard the phrase, “dress for success.” That means that if you’re a banker you wear a dark, 3-piece suit. If you’re a rock star, you dress like you’re from the whacked out planet of Bling. And if you’re a baseball player you dress like you can hit flame throwing pitching, not like someone turned your legs into a friggin’ flame thrower.

This is baseball, not Fashion Week, my friend. As much as I hate the Yankees, they understand that. They have classy uniforms. Can you picture The Boss (Steinbrenner, for all you millennials) trotting his Bombers onto the hallowed grounds of Yankee Stadium sporting a nice paisley print instead of pinstripes? Not a friggin’ chance, pal. He had respect for the game. He was a bit of a dick, but he didn’t believe in gimmicks like it appears the Snakes do.

Now, I suppose if they end up winning their division — maybe with 100 W’s or something — we’ll see a bunch more teams next season looking like they dipped their pants in the ink well. But I don’t see that happening. For two reasons. The Giants and the Dodgers. Who also have classy uniforms.

But I still hate ’em.

Joe