The Chicago Cubs Are Trying To Ruin My Life

I don't have the normal hatred of the Chicago Cubs that many of my fellow Cardinals fans possess. While I'm not exactly sympathetic towards them, I am pretty apathetic. I don't exactly cheer for them, but I also don't root against them (except when they're playing the Cards). This apathy generally comes not from growing up in Peoria, which is equally divided in Cubs and Cards fans, but from growing up in Peoria while both franchises sucked. Hard.

A good chuck of my primary childhood/adolescent years (1988-1999) were pretty rough on both teams -- what with only three playoff appearances during the combined twenty four seasons -- and if I was ten years older or ten years younger, perhaps I would feel some more vitriol towards my friends who cheer on the Northsiders. But I don't. It's all apathy, (almost) all the time. Maybe things would be different if I didn't grow up when Mark Whiten and Felix Jose were among the "stars" on the team; I don't really know.

So with the Cubs pushing to win the NL Central earlier this week, I was perfectly content with it. "Let the baby have their bottle" was a mantra I could get behind, especially after winning the fucking World Series last year (If, in fact, that really did happen). I'd be happy for my Cubs fan friends, that they get to enjoy some cold baseball for the first time in four years, get their nerves racked and their livers punished. They're great fucking times, the playoffs (although I am looking forward to a stress free one for the first time in a while).

Then, in Miami earlier this week, the fucking wheels fell off of the Cubbie wagon. They lost their first two games against the Marlins. Meanwhile, the Brewers were beating up on the hapless Cardinals. The magic number would have remained at four for four consecutive games had not Brewers manager Ned Yost made one of the most idiotic managerial decisions I have seen in a fortnight and put an insurance run for the Cards on base in the 8th inning instead of -- I don't know? -- trying to win the fucking game. So the magic number fell to three.

Last night, the Cubs finished off getting swept by Florida. But the Brewers (and Ryan Braun) threw their game (literally) away and lost to the Padres. So now the Cubs magic number sits at two. With three games left.

Where am I going with all of this? My bachelor party is Saturday. Every guy going -- sans myself -- is a Cubs fan.

Which means that either the party could be an absolute complete fucking downer (if the Cubs somehow blow this) or it could be kicked up like nineteen notches (if the Cubs clinch). If something drastic happens and the Brewers move into a tie with the Cubs Saturday night, I would not be surprised if my best man, Nate, knifes me. And that's on the low end of the outcome scale.

Tonight the Cubs have "Bat Shit Insane" Carlos Zambrano going up against "Noted Crap Rocker" Bronson Arroyo of the Reds. Saturday's matinée will feature Cubs rookie Rich Hill battling based balls with Aaron Harang, who recently escaped from a zoo. In the same two day span, the Brewers will be throwing Chris Capuano (who hasn't won a game since the Ford administration) against future Hall of Famer (and one heck of a scotch drinker) Greg Maddux and Dave Bush against Chris Young, respectively.

I have no idea who's matchups favor whom -- honestly all four look like decent matchups -- but for the first time in my adult life, I will be pulling for the Cubs this weekend (we had a brief tryst back in 1984; what can I say? Leon Durham was a heck of a ballplayer and a surprisingly sensitive lover). So, go Cubs.


Because if they keep losing they could, in all actuality, ruin my bachelor party.

And if they do that, well, I don't know what I'll do, but it will probably involve an upper decker and Ron Santo's toilet.

[have a great weekend, everybody. enjoy the penn state v. illionis game. oh wait, you probably can't, because the big ten network is also trying to ruin our lives.]

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It's like I don't even know you anymore.
I'm not proud of this post.

(Although after the Brewers little stunt on Wednesday, I really don't want them to win the Central now, so what the hell do I care?)
I hate the big ten network. God dam AD's trying to rake in more money. It should be all about sports, Boxcar, not money. But don't worry, Tito will make your party po pimpin. Unless I pass out at 6:30 sitting upright with a burger in my mouth, which has happened before.

The Big Ten Network is serving as a fine proxy for the traditional Cardinal baseball October liver destruction.

It can't be healthy to show up at a satellite-equipped bar before 11am on a Saturday.

But I expect you'll be running a similar marathon this Saturday. Have a good time.
Well, that solved that.
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