So, the Cubs filed for Chapter 11. Kinda poetic, don’t ya think? But it’s like Dr. Seuss poetic, not Robert Frost or Robert Service or Shakespeare poetic. Although, this season was a comedy of errors. (Uh, for you White Sox fans … that was one of Shakespeare’s plays.)

Anyway, it just seems fitting that the most pathetic baseball team in the history of history is declaring bankruptcy. I know, I know, it’s just a technicality that will let the Ricketts family take over the club. It’s not like they’re breakin’ up the team and selling off the jock straps. Although, I think I can get maybe two or three hundred thousand people who would agree that may not be such a bad idea.

One thing’s for sure, the Monopoly Guy has got to go. In fact, he oughta go directly to jail without passing Go, and without collecting $7,000,000. That’s right, sports fans, Wiltin’ Milton took home a seven with six zeros after it. And you know what we got for that? A .257 average, a whopping 12 dingers, and the attitude of an abused rottweiler. And who does he blame this on? Us; the fans; Chicago; the best fans and the best city in the world.

Hey, Mr Anger Management, why don’t you just bite me! You ain’t good enough to wear a Cubs uniform. Hell, you ain’t good enough to wear a McDonald’s uniform! (Those guys have to make change, which means they gotta count higher than 2.) I never heard of somebody being sent home early, but if it was cuz you were hurting the team, like Hendry said, you can count your lucky stars that it didn’t happen sooner, pal. (That is, if there are less than three of them.) I mean it’s not like your bat and glove did us any favors. In fact I’ve seen nicer swings in Cabrini-Green! And I don’t give a crispy crap what the Player’s Association says, I think you gotta know how to count to three if you’re gonna play ball at the Major League level. Of course, you weren’t really playing, you were just out there blaming the grass for being green. So I’m sure you’ll sucker some team into giving you a job next season. We’ll know who it is when the truck full of egg shells pulls up to their locker room. Take a hike, pallie.

Sorry. That last paragraph was intended just for the Milt Shake. I gotta go brat-itate, now. That’s where I sit in a dark room and think about eating 3 or 4 brats with the works. Always calms me down.

Ok, I’m back. You should see the calm on my face. I look like I’ve been hypnotized by Kreskin. Anyway, part of me thinks Hendry oughta be on the Monopoly Guy’s bus for making that deal in the first place. Gotta hand it to him, though, for sending the bum home early. It’s like the Major League version of having to stand in the corner during class. Thumbs up on that one, Jimbo.

So what I think is that the Cubs should take this opportunity and sorta Chapter 11 the roster; do a little restructuring, especially with the Ricketts taking over. You know, clean slate and all. To me, that means a closer that does fine at Wrigley, but couldn’t close an umbrella on the road … oughta hit the road. In my most fluent Fukudomese, I say sayonara, Gregg. I’d say sayonara Soriano too, but we’re stuck with that friggin’ contract. Actually, I say it all the time just cuz I like the way it rolls off the tongue.

I could go on, but what’s the point? It’s not like what I think matters a hoot. But, my fellow bleacher bums, you might as well be prepared to make the new drought number “102,” cuz unless a handful of over-paid, under-performing Cubs are replaced (yeah, right after hell freezes) or they somehow turn themselves into Albert Pujols over the winter (sure, and monkeys are gonna fly outta my butt) I don’t think the word ‘postseason’ will be used in the same sentence as ‘the Cubs’ in 2010.

Of course, I could be wrong. But I’m not.

Joe