It started out as a Cub blog with cuss words. I'm still cussin'; it's the Cub part I'm a little squishy on these days.

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Bruce, we gave you tha keys, and THIS is what you brought home?

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Friday, August 19

Pull the plug

I wonder, if Grieving Mom Cindy Sheehan looked like THIS, I bet Dubya finds a few minutes in his bizzy day to talk to her?

Anyway, hello again, everbody. I wanted to get out here before the Chicago Cub takes on the Rockie. I've been in class for a few days, and yesterday, I decided to not ignore the searing pain in my chest, and I went to the hospital to get it checked out. They taped things to me, and they think I'm fine, that somehow it's a panic attack that I brought on myself.

First off, fuckheads? I DON'T bring these things on myself.

Second of all, that wasn't like no panic attack I've ever felt. I ain't panicking, except for my chest that feels like Rambo stuck a fucking field knife in it.

Anyway, three days without touching a computer always is wonderful, so it is that I cap off this work week with my own special brand of bitterness and bile.

Somebody named "JLo", who comes out here now and again, went out to Chuck's joint and pointed out that at this time last year, the AssTrolls were five games back of the wild card, with four teams to climb over. But, JLo, there are some major differences:

1) We don't have Fat Jolly Roger or Hungry Carlos Beltran.

2) None of the other teams ahead of us today have LaTroy Hawkins closing for them, or Dusty Baker managing for them.

3) Houston doesn't have Carlos anymore, but they still have Fat Jolly Roger.

4) Man for man, the only three positions where we have any advantage whatsoever over last year's club are:
a) first base
b) catcher
c) closer - the only decided advantage we have today.

Last year's club has decided advantages in LF, CF, 2B, and Four of the five rotation spots. So even compared to last year's feebility, we suck.

I guess there is something to be said about avoiding mathematical elimination. But it is far too little, too late. If you are fooled about this week's 5-out-of-7 performance, then, sure, enjoy it with your buddies at the day care.

Just don't try to sell it to me, hear? I don't need any more crazee, capiche?