“My band of soaks. My den of dissolutes. They don’t hear the little ones crying!”
This is my Cubs musical set to the music of Les Miserables!
“Have you seen how the foreman is fuming today? With his terrible breath and his wandering hands.”
Ricketts said everything’s fine and we have Reed Johnson so we’re good.
“Why won’t daddy give me more money to waste on this crap?!” At the beginning of this, Daddy Ricketts said Tom’s allowance was sealed and he wanted no part of this purchase so “you’re on your own kid.”
“Sitting flat on your butt doesn’t buy any bread. The rain can’t hurt me now. This rain will wash away what’s passed. This is my last chance!”
He can’t get a vote of confidence from Ricketts and he shouldn’t get one. He hasn’t won anything as the general manager. He has spent a ton of unnecessary money that the Cubs don’t even have. Yet somehow, everyone who meets the guy loves him. But this time, it’s over. OVER.
“How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again?”
Oh Mike… I believed in you, I really did. You waited your whole life for this. But my lord did you just make a fool of yourself over and over again. Your press conferences were the stuff of legend in folly for anyone covering the team. Your best “locker room” guys even called you out. But I wish you well. Bon voyage on your next gig as the lovable yet moronic bench coach who always begs the question “whaaaaa happpenedddd?”
“Do you hear the people sing? Singing a song of angry men? It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again!”
I’m Wrigley and I’ve had enough. Put me to sleep and move this sorry @$$ team to the suburbs and let me go gracefully into the good night as a music venue and historical landmark for a team that did nothing but make people cry over the last 100 years.
Yea. Kinda. The master does dole out the charm and his open palm is FULL OF MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF DOLLARS.
Why should we hate him? It’s not his fault Jim Hendry is DENSE BEYOND HUMAN RECOGNITION. He gets blamed for far too much. He got old. Ok? If he was scouted better by the Cubs they would have seen he couldn’t be a 30/30 guy anymore.
And alas, our old friend…
“Crying at all is not allowed. Not in my castle on a cloud.”
You’re right, Z. Crying is not allowed. Stop being a horrible jackass who apologizes two days late. Embrace the fact that you are a gigantic male member and own it.
It would be awesome if someone would bring me home from this wretched excuse of a team with REAL FANS WHO DIE TO BELIEVE EVERY EFFING YEAR…
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Sunday afternoon I had my first opportunity to hit the ballpark, soak up some rays, drink a few beers and enjoy watching the Nats as they entertained the visiting Cubs. However, as they say, sometimes the best laid plans of mice and men…..
Turns out that after a week of ridiculous heat and asthma inducing humidity, the weather gods decided to turn things on their head a little bit and go more for the mid-50’s with mist sort of atmosphere. And I’m not going to lie. When you’re sitting in the upper upper deck, way out in left field and that wind starts to blow off the Potomac, it ain’t pretty. And it wasn’t. But, I’m a trooper so I got decked out in my Sunday finest and headed for Nationals Park.
What can I say? It’s a new-fangled ballpark. They serve mixed drinks, they have Ben’s Chili Bowl and the seats aren’t too nasty yet. The game was a close-fought contest and the Nats prevailed. There were a couple of spectacular plays by Reed Johnson of the Cubs in centerfield and Ryan Zimmerman of the Nats at third.
But in the end, although I love visiting new parks, there’s really only one place that I consider home when it comes to watching baseball: Comerica Park. And yes, I know it’s new and I know it replaced Tiger’s Stadium which was a classic old ballpark. But you know what? When it comes to the Tigers, I don’t think they can do any wrong. This is a team that made me accept Gary Sheffield as one of our own despite the fact that I still picture him in Yankee pinstripes. And I just don’t have anything close to that affinity for either the Cubs or the Nats. The closest thing I could come up with is that the enemy of the enemy of my friend is my friend. But, that’s a pretty tenuous connection.
So, as it stands, I’m just going to have to sit tight and enjoy baseball as I can. But don’t worry. The Tigers come to Baltimore in July and I haven’t been to Camden Yards yet. The Olde English “D” will be flying free in the Chesapeake Bay breezes. Of that you can be sure.