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PATTIN’ YOURSELF ON THE BACK FOR GETTIN’ OUTTA TRAFFIC IS LAME. THE IDEA IS TO AVOID IT IN THE FIRST PLACE.

· 2018 Cubs, Joe Sez · , ,

Hey there, rice cakes. Question: Does anyone ever — and I mean EVER — get home all happy-like after bein’ stuck in traffic for 2 hours? The correct answer is “No, they do not, Joe.”

Same goes for baseball, which is why I don’t wanna hear Tyler Chatwood singin’ in the shower after that outing the other day.

“I was good at getting out of traffic,” Chatwood said. “I created a lot of that. I thought my stuff was really good today. I just need to trust it and try not to be too fine too early. I can build off this for the next time.” NEXT time? What about THIS time?! If he keeps servin’ up “this times” like that there won’t be a friggin’ next time. For any of us. No worries about being “too fine too early”, either. He didn’t come within six lightyears of “fine.”

And unless you’re the kinda nimrod who stands in the middle of a sprawling Mumbai garbage dump and says, “Hey, I really like this fragrance. I wish I had aftershave that was half as sweet,” then no way you’d characterize Chatwood’s stuff as “really good.” He served up 43 balls along with his 49 strikes. A near 50/50 split. About what Stevie Wonder might do … with his eyes closed.

Yo, Tyler, when you give up 6 walks, that’s not the kinda stuff you “need to trust.” What you need to do is look at yourself in the mirror and ask, “Is that the sorta pitching that warrants a 3 year, $38,000,000 pay day?” Again, “no” is the answer, Chatstick. And while you’re in the bathroom for questioning, you also oughta ask that guy lookin’ back at you why he sucked so badly. And he’d better have an answer before your next start.

If I F’d up like that at my job and thought I should keep on doin’ the same thing — that I should “trust” it — my sorry ass would be out on the street in about 4-1/2 seconds. I wouldn’t get a chance to “build off” it for next time.

Now I’ll say this for Chatwood: In spite of the six walks, he was super stingy with the hits, giving up just a solitary run to the Reds. So we shoulda won. No question. With the lineup we got, we oughta be able to hand out 30 or 40 runs in every game and still win. So, to me, Chatwood doesn’t get saddled with that loss, the offense does. With 58 strikeouts in five games — a new league record, by the way — it’s the Cubs bats that can’t be trusted. They’re 7-for-51 with runners in scoring position, so far — a whopping .137 average. That’s not somethin’ you can build on, my friend. That’s somethin’ you oughta scrape off the friggin’ lot.

Until the bats wake up, though, we can’t be gettin’ into a lotta traffic jams. In my relatively non-humble opinion, it would be better to take an alternate route. And, as a pitcher, Chatstick oughta not be pattin’ himself on the back, no matter what. Twistin’ his arm up like that is a good way to end up on the disabled list.

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

Joe

WHAT A THREE-TOED SLOTH, THE GEOLOGIC TIME SCALE AND THE 2018 CHICAGO CUBS HAVE IN COMMON.

· 2018 Cubs, Joe Sez · , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Hey there, rubber bands. Ever heard of the geologic time scale (GTS)? Yeah, me neither. It’s a system used by rock hounds to describe the timing and relationships of stuff that’s occurred during Earth’s history, which happens so slowly it’s really the only way to do it. An eon, for example — the largest division of this time scale — spans hundreds to thousands of millions of years, which is one helluva long time, pallie. So until now, there have only been two major eons: the Precambrian and the Phanerozoic.

However, based on the Cubs immeasurably slow start this season, I’m guessin’ the National Academy of Science may have to introduce a third major division in the GTS — the Northsidian eon — as the only feasible way to track the April the Chicago Cubs are puttin’ together.

Have there been worse Aprils? Of course. In 1988, Baltimore went 0-21 before splitting their last four games to finish 2-23 in April. I remember that. They coulda easily just cleared out the clubhouse and started settin’ up tee times. I mean the season was done; burnt to a crisp before May Day, which I’m sure was a pretty common phrase in Baltimore that spring. And let’s not forget the Cubbies, who started seasons at 6-19 in 1962, 1966 and 1997. So, yeah, there have been some total crap Aprils since the beginning of baseball time, and five games in, no one should worry.

So why the need for a new eon now?

Cuz context matters, my friend. Leadin’ up to opening day, any conversation about the Cubs was peppered with assumptions of dominance. Sportswriters were practically wettin’ themselves over the strength of the revamped pitching staff and a line up so fearsome that some opponents might rather forfeit games instead of subjecting themselves to a lopsided Cubs beatdown.

Instead, we’ve come outta the gate like a three-toed sloth — an animal that tops out at 10 feet per minute. And we’ve done it against the Fish and the Reds, two teams that might have trouble qualifyin’ for this summer’s Northwest Little League Regional. It’s embarrassing, my friend. Our pitching has been about as hot as the last ice age, and our bats have demonstrated all the firepower of a fossilized salamander.

Take a look at the numbers in the first 5 games:

We’re hittin’ .204 with 58 strikeouts. Un-friggin-believable.

44 of those Ks were brought to you, for the most part, by the high-butter fat cream of the lineup: Happ (10, and he’s supposed to be a leadoff hitter), Contreras (8, not a surprise given he swings at everything within 3 city blocks of the plate), Rizzo (6), and Bryant, Schwarber and Heyward (each with 5).

Although we’ve had 64 base runners, we’ve scored just 19 times and only managed to swipe a single base.

Did I mention Happ, our leadoff “hitter” has struck out 10 times? 10 FRIGGIN’ TIMES!

In game 2 against the Fish, we had a whole regulation 9 inning game, plus 8 extra ones, to get the slippery bastards in the boat. But did we? No! We let ’em off the hook, that’s what we did.

And we’ve been shut out twice already, including yesterday’s weak two-hit effort we put up … AGAINST THE FRIGGIN’ REDS!

What I’m hopin’ is that this pinched-loaf of a start is nothin’ more than the calm before the storm; the geological nap before baseball’s La Garita. And if it turns out that way, it would be nice if the 1,000 cubic miles of ash we leave in our wake includes a high concentration of St Louis Cardinals, Chicago White Sox, New York Mets and Clayton Kershaw.

Joe

EVEN THOUGH THEY TOTALLY SUCK, CINCINNATI SHOULD HAVE YOU SEEIN’ RED.

· 2008 Cubs, 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · , , ,

MARTY-BRENNAMAN

Hey there, lawn darts, this is the venerable Joseph T. Schlombowski, comin’ at ya from the cheap seats. [Sidebar: I don’t know what “venerable” means, but it sounds good whenever I hear it comin’ outta some big shot ESPN mouth piece.] The Reds are comin’ to town and you know what that means — time to break out the foam middle fingers, pal.

Yeah, my normally militant persona is ratcheted up a couple a hundred notches, but when you’re in the Schlombowski zone, does it really matter? That’s like addin’ a couple of extra buckets of water to the Pacific. Know what I’m sayin’?

Annnnnywaaaaay … it doesn’t take much for me to get up for a series against the Reds. Why? Cuz of the pin-headed Marty Brennaman — the uncontrolled fog horn of the Cincinnati Reds. I’ll get back to his mouth in a moment. First, though, I gotta hand it to the guy: In spite of the burr he has permanently wedged between by ass cheeks, Brennaman is definitely on the right side of Rob Womanfred’s new slide rule. Which is to say his brain waves are hittin’ the same beach as mine for a change. In fact in April, Brennaman said he thought the Commish was legislating baseball “into a game of sissies.“ Totally. Almost sent him a thank you note for that one, but then I remembered why I’d rather eat off the floor of a gas station bathroom than hear his name mentioned again.

Which brings me back to Brennaman’s pie hole, and gettin’ up for the Reds.

For those of you who don’t remember: During a game between Cinci and the Cubs in 2008, Adam Dunn plunked one out onto Sheffield. Now you’d expect that one to come flyin’ back over the bleachers somewhere in the vicinity of then right fielder Sammy Sosa (former Cubs superstar turned roided up DB). Instead, Dunn’s blast initiated a symphony of baseballs — not just the one — being tossed back onto the field. Friggin’ laughed my ass off! (Not enough of it according to the missus, though.) But Mr Brennaman and his steel reinforced sphincter reacted to it differently.

Now, all I gotta do to get my fan face on for the Reds is spend 2 minutes on YouTube listenin’ to that loud speaker tellin’ me that Cubs fans are far and away the most obnoxious in baseball.

You’ll have to excuse me now. I gotta go take a Brennaman.

Joe

THE 4TH HAS ME FEELIN’ A LITTLE DIRTY. JOE DIRT-Y.

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · , , ,

JOE-DIRT-Y

Hey there, fuzz buttles, and happy Independence Day. I gotta tell you, the 4th has me feelin’ a little Joe Dirt-y, especially after the Mets decided to start their fireworks show early, unleashing a 4 game long grand finale of spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, hoosker doos, hoosker don’ts, cherry bombs, nipsy daisers — with and without the scooter stick — right up the whistlin’ bungholes of the Cubs. What I’m hopin’ for is a little pyrotechnics of our own at the considerable expense of the Reds. Yeah … I’d like that.

Better stand back, cover your ears and put your dogs inside. This could get noisy.

Joe

WHO NEEDS TO FIND BOBBY FISCHER WHEN YOU’VE GOT JOE MADDON?

· 2016 Cubs, Joe Sez · , , , ,

JOE-MADDON-CHESS-MASTER

Boris Spasky? Garry Kasparov? Bobby Fischer? Pfft. You wanna talk about the grandest master of ’em all, you’ll be throwin’ the name Joe Maddon around, my friend. If you saw last night’s game, you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. If I didn’t know better — but I do, cuz guys were wearin’ uniforms instead of suits, and the game was in Cincinnati not Reykjavik — I’d have sworn I was watchin’ a great chess match.

Maddon opened with the Zobrist Attack — nearly impossible to defend against — and then began to slowly and methodically dissect the Reds like the pawns they are. It was masterful; different than the night before, though, where he basically commanded the entire game with a single piece — a tactic known as the Bryant Challenge. But last night … last night’s middlegame was almost cruel. Maddon lulled the Reds into a sense of over-confidence by toyin’ with ’em. Even lettin’ them back in the game when he had a chance to close it out. This is known as the Rondon Gambit. There are similar Gambit moves — the Wood, the Grimm and the Stroup — that Maddon will attempt on occasion, but last night he went with Rondon.

You could see the Reds thinkin’ they had an opening, especially when they shut the door on the Cubs with their semi-brilliant (nothing the Reds do can technically be called “brilliant”) execution of the Votto Defense. But then Maddon started movin’ pieces around like a friggin’ tornado and exchanging ’em like teenage girls sharin’ a closet; Grimm for Rondon, Goghlan for Almora, Szczur from left to center, Edwards for Grimm, Montero to Edwards’s spot then Cahill for Edwards. This kinda chess-like mastery continued for the next 5 innings, with Maddon makin’ one of his most blinding moves — the Patton-Wood castling — in the 14th. Filthy. Really filthy.

It wasn’t until the 15th, though, that Big Joe pulled out the rarely-used Javier Baez Slam. An end game I don’t think anyone expected, least of all the Reds. That just friggin’ crushed whatever hope they’d been clinging to and 3 outs later … check-friggin-mate, my friend.

Tip of the Joe cap to you, Joe Maddon. That was 4 hours and 43 minutes of brilliance.

Joe