WARNING: Before we get started, I’m assuming most people who come to this site don’t need to be told this, but for those who are not familar with a roast, they are rude, crude, and definitely not politically correct. If you are easily offended, please just stop reading right here. Bleed Cubbie Blue is that way. —–>
Thank you all for coming to the 2011 Roast of the Chicago Cubs.
As Cubs fans this year, we have been subjected to nearly six months of excruciatingly painful experiences that no baseball fan should have to endure, and if we took a moment to stop reading Paul Sullivan articles to actually see the Cubs play, it wasn’t much better.
I’m not saying the Cubs were bad at baseball. I’m saying they were fucking horrible at it. It’s like they were the Chicago Cubs of playing baseball.
From top to bottom, the Cubs embarassed themselves with more frequency than Charlie Sheen on a bender. This is what happens when you put together your coaching staff on Craigslist. Mark Riggins looks like he is taking a break from his normal job of gay porn fluffer to be the pitching coach. Of course, he was probably the right man for the job since the straightest thing about Jeff Samardzija is his fastball.
The only good thing Ivan DeJesus has ever done for the Cubs was get traded for Ryne Sandberg. Now I’d be happy to trade him for Cindy Sandberg so the wind wouldn’t be the only thing blowing at Wrigley. I’d feel bad for Bobby Dernier always being so lonely over there at first base, but he’s usually too drunk to even know where he is anyway. Have you noticed he always whispers to runners when they reach first base? He’s not giving advice, he’s asking for a dollar so he can go buy some Mad Dog because Randy Wells broke into his secret stash again.
And what about Mike Quade? My God, he is an ugly motherfucker. The only thing uglier than Mike Quade are his lineups. The man had Jeff Baker batting clean-up at times this year. Jeff. Baker. The last thing Jeff Baker was good at cleaning was his 3rd-degree ass burns.
Not that Quade had all that many options. The Cubs are so bad that Marlon Byrd was happy to get nailed in the head with a fastball so he could see some stars around him. The Cubs’ big free agent acquisition was Carlos Pena. He seems like a good guy, but I’ve been looking at the videos and I think I’ve found a hole in his swing. It’s called the strike zone.
Even the guys who have actual talent are crappy. Take Alfonso Soriano. Seriously. Take him and never bring him back. Could he possibly move any slower on the field? The only thing that moved more slowly on the Cubs was Tom Ricketts’ decision to finally fucking fire Jim Hendry. Ron Santo is dead and doesn’t have any legs and he STILL moves faster than Alfonso Soriano.
But who would they replace him with? Bryan LaHair? Bryan LaHair is so old he remembers threatening Ernie Banks when the league desegregated. How about Tyler Colvin? He once scored after being stabbed in the chest. I know after this year many Cub fans would like to stab him again to see if that helps.
The brightest spot is Starlin Castro but the Cubs will fuck him up too. Nobody has bothered to explain to him that there is no rule that says you have to swing at every pitch that is thrown to him. At least when he swings at them, we know he was at least paying attention. Bobby Valentine got all over Castro for not paying attention to a couple of pitches in a game earlier this year but I don’t think that’s very fair. After about five pitches (also known as five Cubs plate appearances), I stop paying attention too. Who could watch this shit for more than a few minutes at a time?
For God’s sake, this fucking team is so fucking bad from top to bottom that nobody could push Koyie Hill off the team. Koyie Hill would have trouble challenging Timmy Lupus for a roster spot on the Bad News Bears and he’s been getting paid almost a million dollars by the Cubs this year. The only thing Koyie Hill is worse at than playing baseball is using a table saw. I’m not saying Koyie Hill is a useless fucking piece of no-talent shit because it would be an insult to useless fucking pieces of no-talent shit everywhere (don’t say I never did anything nice for you, Steve Rosenbloom).
We could probably put up with the shitty offense, and the shitty pitching, and the shitty baserunning, and the shitty managing if maybe the ballpark where we watched it didn’t put ALIEN SHIT IN OUR FUCKING ICE CUBES! Twenty critical health code violations at Wrigley concession stands? I can see Wally Hayward’s new slogan for next year: “Come to Wrigley for that good nostalgic, old-timey feel, now with extra Bubonic Plague!”
I know the Ricketts are obsessed with the troughs, but can we draw the line at serving beverages out of them? It is seriously safer to eat your nachos directly off of Bob Brenly’s taint.
Speaking of Judd Sirott… the only thing worse than watching the Cubs try to play baseball is having Judd scream vague descriptions of what they are doing as they fuck everything up. If I ever invent a time machine, I’m going to go back in time and convince Bob Sirott to be a cliff diver so that when Judd follows in his uncle’s footsteps without any of the same talent, he’ll die.
But the dark times are drawing to an end at Clark and Addison. Tom Ricketts has shrewdly arrived at the same conclusion everyone else had two years ago and fired Jim Hendry. The future is bright! Tom has stated that he wants to hire someone from a winning tradition and who has advanced analytic skills. As soon as he can locate the kid from Little Big League, we have ourselves a new General Manager. Hint to Tom: check Tony Campana’s resume.
We’re all putting an awful lot of faith in Tom Ricketts on this one. Holy shit are we screwed. The only thing in which Tom has showed the lightest aptitude is glad-handing the dopes who actually bought tickets to watch this mess. But the joke is on you, Tom. All those people shaking your hand had probably just touched one of the concession stands’ syphilis dogs.
But good luck to you, Tom. Know that we only roast the ones we love and remember, from here the sky is the limit… for your revenue streams. The team will probably still suck, but as long as they keep playing out there in that glorified minor league ballpark, we’ll keep shelling out the cash like Charles Barkley at a blackjack table.
Thank you and good night. Don’t forget to tip your waitress.