2/09/2004 09:05:00 AM by Rob

Feeling like I'm on the outside, looking in

I have a predicament on my hands, here.

Several years ago, when I started this particular job, and had all sorts of internet access at my disposal for the first time, I started poking around the various existing Cubs discussion sites. Many of you know what I found...lots of 15 year old kids (both chronologically and emotionally) mindlessly shouting "s@mMy i$ dA bOM" and wondering out loud whether or not he would hit 4 or 5 homers the next day.

This was during the middle of an exciting divisional race, in a situation where we didn't have quite enough pitching, and that we did have, in the name of the glorious rookie Kerry Wood, was literally tearing itself apart throwing those sweeping four-foot overhand curves. But all anyone wanted to talk about was those goddamned homers, and as many of you know, there was some, uh, friction.

That was about the time Hawk saved me by pointing me to the Yahoo Cubs Coven, a Yahoo "Club", which has since been redesignated a "Group". Anyway, the link is at the left. It is, and has been, THE hangout for the disaffected, the long suffering, the realistic, and perhaps not coincidentally, the most hilarious bunch of fucks I have ever dealt with.

Anyway, for the past 5+ years, I have enjoyed being able to vent about Cubs, life, and evil, shitty bitch women, in the most vile methods possible. It is extremely important to bring the whole load with that bunch, because simply saying "fuck fuck fuck" ain't gonna cut it with that bunch, who are intimately familar with Monty Python, the original SNL, Lenny Bruce, Richard Prior, and of course, Mr. Cub at a Cubs Caravan stop after about 2 quarts of Wild Turkey sourmash. You have to hyphenate your curses, as in nun-raping-choadstroker.

But today I notice the addition of a new type of Coven member...old, old guys who must be on the last wave of computer ownership. They don't swear, they can't spell or punctuate worth a shit, and they all talk like they just got let out of a Rat Pack Saturday night matinee.

Somehow, I feel like these old guys, even though reading their shit is excruciating pain, deserve respect. Now Stew, the moderator of the Coven, is one of their peers, in that they all could draw from Social Security. But he's always been cool, what the fuck, he works in Berkeley representing and dealing with hard-core labor disputes for those who cannot even function in the last American Bastion for the Truly Weird. So my rants about the scatological abuse of the Religious Orders don't phase him.

But I'm worried about strutting my stuff in front of these old guys, who want only to argue about who had the best fastball in Cub history. Hey, y'know, for me it started with Fergie, and the one man I remember, in terms of sheer terror on the mound, was Mitch Williams. I'm sure Farnsworth is faster, but I was sure that I would live to see someone die in the batters box while Williams was whaling away out there.

Anyway, what do you all think? Should I go PC on the Coven, to avoid chasing away some good old guys who only want to vent in their sunset years? Or should I just let it hang out, and fuck'em if they don't get it?

After all, there is a fine line between ranting about cornholing nuns, and actually going out and doing it. And I am much closer to the Carmelite convent these days...

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