It’s only August 11th, but the Cubs are well on their way to being C.U.B.S. (Completely Useless by September). Sure, the guys that tow the corporate line on TV will say the Cubs are only three games behind St. Louis and they have the best NL record since the All-Star break (well they did before this weekend; they may not have that distinction anymore), but anyone watching the games can’t be fooled. I feel a need to debunk five common myths about the Cubs right now.
I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a few days, but I’ve just been totally consumed by the Lakers. Since they clinched last Friday, I’ve been pretty much thinking and worrying day and night about how they’re going to win this title. They have to win. Well, they rewarded me tonight with their second best effort of the playoffs (the closeout of Denver was still more dominating). Apparently, the Lakers are interested again, which is good for me because I can at least sleep good the next couple of nights. I know it’s silly, but those of you that are obsessive about your teams will understand. I think. One not so humorous thing about tonight. Well, it’s something I’m sure we’ll look back and laugh about. Tonight is the eve of our fourth anniversary, the fruit anniversary. My wife went out and got her hair done. Our son was staying with my parents today, so I went to pick him up and take him home. They live 40 miles from us, so I did not get home until the player introductions for the game. My son was cute, because he knew Kobe right away (I’ve taught him well). Well, when I came in and put my son down, I became consumed with the game and did not notice my wife’s hair or make a comment about it. (She looked beautiful, but then again she always does). Finally, when the Lakers started to open it up in the second quarter, I noticed. I apologized profusely. My wife understood. She blamed Kobe. I am so sorry, honey. I did bring home a dozen roses, however. And I did plan a great outing on Saturday to celebrate. It still doesn’t excuse it, though. Why do we get so consumed by a game on TV played far away by people who don’t know us? It’s the curse of being a fan.