It was so disorienting! The whole exercise made me feel unclean and confused and ashamed. Yet even though I was begrudgingly cheering for them to hold it together for a few days, the Cubs could not manage to win even one goddamn game.
What a complete waste! To get all lathered up in toxic energy for absolutely NOTHING was exhausting and ultimately pointless. The fact that they couldn’t stave off this pesky Cincinnati team and help the Cards gain or even just hold ground in the standings was absolutely INFURIATING.
Thanks a lot, assholes! If possible, this weekend made me hate the Scrubbies even more, which at this point probably defies basic mathematical principles. It’s remarkable, really.
Anyhow, my folks actually spent the weekend visiting me in Chicago, so I was at least surrounded by good company. We were able to act as our own dysfunctional little support group, which came in extra handy after Ryan Franklin’s meltdown on Saturday. (Seriously. What was THAT about?)
Additionally, we are prepping for our annual pilgrimage to St. Louis next weekend, which means that most of our conversations about the Cardinals concerned bracing ourselves for the worst. My dad’s parting words as he left town were, “hopefully the next time I see you we won’t be 10 games out of first place.”
So, yeah, along with a lot of other Redbird fans these days, we have become deliciously cynical. There’s no doubt in our minds that things are about to go cataclysmically and irreversibly wrong. We could probably all be treated for bipolar disorder.
Not to mention that after limping out of Florida, I can only imagine how fired up and inspired the Cardinals must be as they head into this series against Cincinnati. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE INJECT A FEW QUARTERS INTO THE MORALE METER? Yeesh.
Now, I know that team chemistry has been widely discussed lately and I tend to agree with the general criticism that things are just not quite right in that clubhouse. With the pedigree and talent splashed all over their roster, there’s no other excuse for the Birds to collectively exude as much energy and enthusiasm as a panda bear on morphine.
Unfortunately, I’m just not sure there’s a cure for it. Even ignoring the glaring defensive holes in the infield, streaky lineup and the clunky backend of the rotation, we could very likely be doomed to ride out the rest of the season coasting on fumes and blind luck. In other words, things are just PEACHY!
You know, it’s incredible how a team that’s two games out of first place can make one want to put a bag over their head, throw every television, radio and computer within a 90 mile radius over a cliff and ignore the rest of the season before we even get midway through August.
Ugh. Are we having fun yet?