Cubs Lose Game and Any Semblance of Being a Decent Team to the Pirates

Last year in an interview with Tom Ricketts, Al Yellon repeatedly asked Tom who owned the Cubs.  He asked 3 or 4 different times in only marginally different ways who owned the Cubs and we all had a good laugh.  I think we can all agree at this point, however, that we no longer need to ask who owns the Cubs.  

The Pittsburgh Pirates do.

Sweet sassy molassey, the Cubs suck against the Pirates (and pretty much anyone else who takes the field against them).

This is what it has come down to.  They are getting their asses handed to them regularly by a team that gives an inordinate number of at-bats to Ronny Cedeno and Lyle Overbay.  Lord sweet Pappy Johnson with an erection…

The Pirates haven’t had a winning season since 1992.  Michael Jordan had just won his first championship. The stain on Monica Lewinsky’s dress wasn’t even a glint in Bill Clinton’s eye.  The Olsen twins were only just starting to annoy us and George Lucas hadn’t completely ruined Star Wars for everyone yet.

They haven’t finished with higher than a .450 winning percentage since 1999.  The Pirates fucking suck. And the Cubs can’t beat them.  Not only are they not beating them, the Pirates are getting all Happy-Go-Jackie on them like a donkey eating a waffle.

But anyone affiliated with the Cubs will still talk about how this team can still be successful.  They just need to tweak a few things and get healthy. 

Four games remain on this homestand, and as Darwin Barney said, “We’re not pulling that (white) flag out yet.”

That’s cute, but why the hell not, Darwin? What about this season is encouraging in the slightest?

Is it the 11-16 record the Cubs have at home? 

Is it the 6-13 record against the pathetic NL Central? (By the way, the shit-tastic Orioles have a 7-12 record in the powerhouse AL East.  They would probably kick the shit out of the Cubs.)

Where is this optimism coming from?  It should be no surprise at all that the bisonshit comes straight from the top.

This Cubs team is a pathetic joke and Tommy and the fam keep peddling the same story, this time as he and Laura were in the Tennessee Smokies radio booth:

“We’ve had some tough breaks from an injury standpoint and gave some games away,” Ricketts said. “As we start to bring some guys back, we’ll be very competitive throughout the summer. In our division, we have the capability to be right there in the mix.”

Meanwhile, the Cubs brought back Randy Wells after he got lit up by AAA hitters in his first rehab start in Iowa, presumably on the assumption that pitching against the Pirates is kind of like a second AAA rehab start.  Of course, he got hammered again, and not in the good way in which Randy is used to getting hammered.

Can we now please just own the fact that 2011 is not the Cubs’ year?  Even if we maybe somehow believed it in April, there can’t be a rational argument that the Cubs are any good anymore.  Can we stop with the disingenuous bullshit?  Nobody is buying it based on the crowds in the stands anyway, no matter what the paid attendance says.

Just call this what it is and stop playing Koyie Hill.  Maybe move Aramis Ramirez’s corpse out of the clean-up spot and see what someone else can do there.  Hell, at least Soriano occasionally hits the ball out of the ballpark. How about it?  What the hell?  How could it possibly be worse?

Let’s not rush our cost-controlled starting pitchers back in some faux-attempt to close the gap with the rest of the division.  They are 7.5 games out and in fifth place and it isn’t even Memorial Day yet. Let’s not blow out Randy Wells’ or Matt Garza’s arms just to show they are trying.

Do what you have to do to sell the remaining tickets.  Have sales, discount beer, offer blowjobs… whatever, I don’t care.  Just please stop talking about how good this team can be.  It is a lie and it makes you look like idiots and it makes me worry that you actually believe it.


aisle424

About aisle424

I used to write lots of things about the Cubs. Now I sometimes write things about the Cubs.

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