Friday, October 17, 2008

Boston – my second city*

BY DUBS

It is rare for something good to happen in Chicago. I count two awesome things happening since 1985 – the 2005 Sox and the 90s Bulls. Both have little or no value to Chicago anymore. The 2005 World Series was pretty much ignored by most of the city (including me) and the Bulls have become a joke, kind of like HMLS’s sexuality or FMRA’s fifth grade abstinence pledge.

All you have to do is take a look at the Cubs the last two years – two three and outs. Granted that’s more pumps than APND can manage in one sexual act, but really? The Cubs won 184 games the last two years combined under Lou Piniella. From 2003-2005, when Piniella managed Tampa, the Rays won a combined 200 games, or 16 more games in one extra FULL season. Now they are one game away from the World Series, something the Cubs have not attended in 53 years or won in 100.

This kind of injustice is why I always felt a strange and strong pull towards the Red Sox. They were my AL team for the lone fact that they, you, knew my pain. We were the Murphy’s Laws of baseball. Might it be Buckner or Bartman**, we felt the grief of being so close, yet never really having a chance (see a-trains shot with FMRA) together. Our teams destroyed us emotionally and physically through booze, heightened heart rates and ulcers. And if you’re GHABB,Y~!, apparently sleeping pills: “What if terry Francona blew a bubble big enough for him to live inside? Would it float or roll around like the orbs on American gladiators?”

That is why it disturbed me last night when it seemed you guys had given up. HMLS took off in the seventh, along with Ms. Cupcakes. The mood was somber. How easily you had forgotten about last year and 2004. How in the face of certain death the Sox came back and laid some serious pipe, like Dolph Lundgren in Showdown in Little Tokyo, to beat the Indians and Yankees. You have ignored the pain for so long. Joy has instead replaced it. The nation ran from the pain instead of confronting it.

But then something happened. I will call it the “fuck Australia effect”. You looked at the winy Grant Balfour and said, “Hey, you, the guy that talks like a fucking retard. Go fuck yourself.” All of a sudden it was 8-4, HMLS was back and a Sox win was underway.

What I am trying to say is that, for us Cubs fans, never forget the pain. Don’t run from it. USE it to keep you wanting more. Be greedy and never forget how Mookie Wilson made you feel that day. God knows I will never forgive Alex Gonzalez.


As has been my creed (minus the bad music and lame hair) for this ALCS: May the day shine with Tampa blood and the night ring with Boston cheer. Good luck Boston.

*Fawking clever, no?
**I don’t blame him, I liked the alliteration. Sick I know.

5 comments:

Hazel Maes Landing Strip said...

To be fair I never shut the game off, I was just in my room watching the game in a state of catatonic shock.

GHABB,Y~! said...

I kept watching the game too, even though i had to flick myself in the eyes repeatedly to do so. Moral of the story kids: Ativan is a helluva drug, and it makes you imagine Terry Francona floating inside a giant bubblegum American Gladiators orb.

Dubs said...

that was probably the funniest moment of the live blog last night...

GHABB,Y~! said...

*Ambien, not Ativan.

jennycupcakes said...

to be fair I do work in a hospital in cardiology and I kinda have to be on my game when I'm there
its super stressful and I really thought I would puke if I had to watch the Rays celebrate in Fenway...