Da-Chief
10-07-2007, 07:29
October 6, 2007
<!-- Article By Line --> BY JAY MARIOTTI (inbox@suntimes.com) Sun-Times Columnist
<!-- Article's First Paragraph --> It's sickening enough that someone would kill a goat, hang it on the Harry Caray statue the other night and post a video of the carcass on YouTube. But you know what's really creepy? It had zero impact in reversing the most futile, maddening, wretched and incurably impotent daze in the history of American sports.
If sacrificing a billy goat can't purge a curse, isn't it doomed to last forever?
http://media1.suntimes.com/multimedia/100707cublong3.jpg_20071007_06_13_14_124-375-315.imageContent
Da-Chief was spotted hurting Saturday night!
Cubdom is left to ponder this and other dark addendums to the same old story after the most embarrassing of all Cub Flubs, a team's complete and utter failure to show up for a postseason series. The bosses would have been better off keeping the $400 million they've spent on players than subjecting long-tortured fans to another October crash, this one more numbing than 1969, 1984 and even Bartman '03. With night falling over the ancient burial grounds, all you could hear in the bottom of the ninth was the celebratory beating of a orange Gatorade jug in the Diamondbacks dugout, courtesy of winning pitcher and bongo aficianado Livan Hernandez.
That's how deathly quiet it was in Wrigley, where the fans had booed the bums and shed some tears and ultimately jumped off the hope bridge once again. Next time they're in the ballpark will be in 2008, the 100-year anniversary of their team's last World Series title. One hundred friggin' years. All it does is reconfirm the reality that in an uncertain world, few things are more certain than the Cubs as pathetic losers. And if the new management group is anything like the outgoing Tribsters, they'll probably celebrate the anniversary instead of loathing it. Hey, how about doing commemorative giveways involving the 1908 team?
Get your free Mordecai (Three-Finger) Brown Bobble-head doll.
There was Lou Piniella, exhausted and overrun by silver facial stubble, already trying to pump up fans for Next Year just minutes after the three-game sweep was cemented with a limp, lifeless, 5-1 loss. ``This is a just a start, fellas. We're gonna get better,'' he said. ``It is disappointing, but no matter how far up the ladder you go, if you don't win the World Series, you're going to find disappointment.''
Then, incredibly, he delivered another pep talk. ``We'll regroup.
We made some nice strides,'' he said. ``We'll do some things over the winter and we'll be back next spring to get better and better.''
You have got to be kidding. What does he think we are, stupid?
This isn't a one-and-done in Cincinnati, where they've won championships. This is Cubdom, where despair comes with the game ticket and parking pass. As much as Piniella tried to ignore the past, it ended up overwhelming him in Arizona, where he made the error that ended up sabotaging the cause -- removing Carlos Zambrano after six innings of a 1-1 game -- and was roundly ripped. ``I bring in (Carlos) Marmol, it's like the goat left his grave, right? Like Leo Durocher turned in his grave?'' Piniella moped Thursday. ``For God's sake, we got a five-game series here.''
Turns out it was a three-game series. Which means Piniella, in trying to preserve Zambrano for a possible Sunday start, was guilty of trying to win Game 4 before he even had won Game 1. Sure, the Cubs primarily lost because their highest-paid stars bombed out, with Aramis ($75 million) Ramirez going 0 for 12 with five strikeouts and Alfonso ($136 million) Soriano going 2 for 14 for an offense that hit .194 and went 2 for 23 with runners in scoring position. They had at least one runner on base in 13 of 27 innings, yet managed only six runs and four extra-base hits. When Mark DeRosa ended the fifth by grounding into a double play and Derrek ($65 million) Lee dittoed in the seventh, it was over. Not that Zambrano, the $91 million man, would have stood much chance on three days' rest. And not that Ted ($40 million) Lilly would have saved the Cubs in Game 5 after his debacle the other night. But Piniella, with his strategic blunder, dared to tempt fate. Maybe he now grasps Cubdom.
Maybe he should have waited for the Yankees job, too.
Why is this the biggest Cub Flub? Because this was supposed to be The Year, the year that no longer required waiting 'til next year, the year when major spending and Piniella's presence and the final year of Tribune Co. ownership would produce the holy grail. Or, at least, that's what the Cubs had a lot of gullible folks believing, including Fox TV executives who openly rooted for the romantic story line. No one said as much, but you sensed a lot of people -- from president John McDonough to celebrity fan Bill Murray to the old lady praying in her seat -- realized 100 years without a title sounds much worse than double digits. The Red Sox finally won. The White Sox finally won.
But the Cubs, I'm afraid, never will win.
I do not hesitate in calling this an epic choke job, simply because the players visibly buckled under the palpable expectations.
They were tight and tense in Arizona and played with a heavier burden at Wrigley, where Rich Hill allowed a home run to Chris Young on the game's first pitch. This was the same Rich Hill who had dipped into denial the day before, saying, ``It's going to be very exciting. We're in a very good position.'' OK, then.
Contrast the Cubs' vibe to the loose, fun approach of the D-Backs, who shocked those of us who called them the Milli Vanillis with an efficient, airtight, big-moment performance. The D-Backs, owned by former agent Jeff Moorad, have a payroll less than half that of the Cubs. But they played with 10 times the heart and no pressure.
``Pressure is nothing,'' Hernandez said. ``I got more pressure when I live in Cuba and I get up in the morning looking for something ... and don't find nothing.'' His young teammates were impressive in their first national ride, none more than shortstop Stephen Drew, the kind of emerging young superstar the Cubs haven't grown in their farm system.
One hundred friggin' years.
``Goodbye, everyone,'' ex-Cub Mark Grace, now an D-Backs broadcaster, said as he left the press box. ``Tell everyone the Cubs had a nice season.''
Then he looked at me. ``I know you won't,'' he said.
He's right. I think it was anathema.
http://www.suntimes.com/sports/mariottiweb/592311,mariottiwebcubs07.article
<!-- Article By Line --> BY JAY MARIOTTI (inbox@suntimes.com) Sun-Times Columnist
<!-- Article's First Paragraph --> It's sickening enough that someone would kill a goat, hang it on the Harry Caray statue the other night and post a video of the carcass on YouTube. But you know what's really creepy? It had zero impact in reversing the most futile, maddening, wretched and incurably impotent daze in the history of American sports.
If sacrificing a billy goat can't purge a curse, isn't it doomed to last forever?
http://media1.suntimes.com/multimedia/100707cublong3.jpg_20071007_06_13_14_124-375-315.imageContent
Da-Chief was spotted hurting Saturday night!
Cubdom is left to ponder this and other dark addendums to the same old story after the most embarrassing of all Cub Flubs, a team's complete and utter failure to show up for a postseason series. The bosses would have been better off keeping the $400 million they've spent on players than subjecting long-tortured fans to another October crash, this one more numbing than 1969, 1984 and even Bartman '03. With night falling over the ancient burial grounds, all you could hear in the bottom of the ninth was the celebratory beating of a orange Gatorade jug in the Diamondbacks dugout, courtesy of winning pitcher and bongo aficianado Livan Hernandez.
That's how deathly quiet it was in Wrigley, where the fans had booed the bums and shed some tears and ultimately jumped off the hope bridge once again. Next time they're in the ballpark will be in 2008, the 100-year anniversary of their team's last World Series title. One hundred friggin' years. All it does is reconfirm the reality that in an uncertain world, few things are more certain than the Cubs as pathetic losers. And if the new management group is anything like the outgoing Tribsters, they'll probably celebrate the anniversary instead of loathing it. Hey, how about doing commemorative giveways involving the 1908 team?
Get your free Mordecai (Three-Finger) Brown Bobble-head doll.
There was Lou Piniella, exhausted and overrun by silver facial stubble, already trying to pump up fans for Next Year just minutes after the three-game sweep was cemented with a limp, lifeless, 5-1 loss. ``This is a just a start, fellas. We're gonna get better,'' he said. ``It is disappointing, but no matter how far up the ladder you go, if you don't win the World Series, you're going to find disappointment.''
Then, incredibly, he delivered another pep talk. ``We'll regroup.
We made some nice strides,'' he said. ``We'll do some things over the winter and we'll be back next spring to get better and better.''
You have got to be kidding. What does he think we are, stupid?
This isn't a one-and-done in Cincinnati, where they've won championships. This is Cubdom, where despair comes with the game ticket and parking pass. As much as Piniella tried to ignore the past, it ended up overwhelming him in Arizona, where he made the error that ended up sabotaging the cause -- removing Carlos Zambrano after six innings of a 1-1 game -- and was roundly ripped. ``I bring in (Carlos) Marmol, it's like the goat left his grave, right? Like Leo Durocher turned in his grave?'' Piniella moped Thursday. ``For God's sake, we got a five-game series here.''
Turns out it was a three-game series. Which means Piniella, in trying to preserve Zambrano for a possible Sunday start, was guilty of trying to win Game 4 before he even had won Game 1. Sure, the Cubs primarily lost because their highest-paid stars bombed out, with Aramis ($75 million) Ramirez going 0 for 12 with five strikeouts and Alfonso ($136 million) Soriano going 2 for 14 for an offense that hit .194 and went 2 for 23 with runners in scoring position. They had at least one runner on base in 13 of 27 innings, yet managed only six runs and four extra-base hits. When Mark DeRosa ended the fifth by grounding into a double play and Derrek ($65 million) Lee dittoed in the seventh, it was over. Not that Zambrano, the $91 million man, would have stood much chance on three days' rest. And not that Ted ($40 million) Lilly would have saved the Cubs in Game 5 after his debacle the other night. But Piniella, with his strategic blunder, dared to tempt fate. Maybe he now grasps Cubdom.
Maybe he should have waited for the Yankees job, too.
Why is this the biggest Cub Flub? Because this was supposed to be The Year, the year that no longer required waiting 'til next year, the year when major spending and Piniella's presence and the final year of Tribune Co. ownership would produce the holy grail. Or, at least, that's what the Cubs had a lot of gullible folks believing, including Fox TV executives who openly rooted for the romantic story line. No one said as much, but you sensed a lot of people -- from president John McDonough to celebrity fan Bill Murray to the old lady praying in her seat -- realized 100 years without a title sounds much worse than double digits. The Red Sox finally won. The White Sox finally won.
But the Cubs, I'm afraid, never will win.
I do not hesitate in calling this an epic choke job, simply because the players visibly buckled under the palpable expectations.
They were tight and tense in Arizona and played with a heavier burden at Wrigley, where Rich Hill allowed a home run to Chris Young on the game's first pitch. This was the same Rich Hill who had dipped into denial the day before, saying, ``It's going to be very exciting. We're in a very good position.'' OK, then.
Contrast the Cubs' vibe to the loose, fun approach of the D-Backs, who shocked those of us who called them the Milli Vanillis with an efficient, airtight, big-moment performance. The D-Backs, owned by former agent Jeff Moorad, have a payroll less than half that of the Cubs. But they played with 10 times the heart and no pressure.
``Pressure is nothing,'' Hernandez said. ``I got more pressure when I live in Cuba and I get up in the morning looking for something ... and don't find nothing.'' His young teammates were impressive in their first national ride, none more than shortstop Stephen Drew, the kind of emerging young superstar the Cubs haven't grown in their farm system.
One hundred friggin' years.
``Goodbye, everyone,'' ex-Cub Mark Grace, now an D-Backs broadcaster, said as he left the press box. ``Tell everyone the Cubs had a nice season.''
Then he looked at me. ``I know you won't,'' he said.
He's right. I think it was anathema.
http://www.suntimes.com/sports/mariottiweb/592311,mariottiwebcubs07.article