Poor wibble babies.

Those precious angles from Los Angeles are all hottsee wottsee in St. Louis and the LA Times says that they can’t play outside for too long or they’ll get too gosh darn hot.
Juice boxes and orange slices for everyone in the clubhouse @ 5. Be there!

Oh, and the Cardinals have lost 8 straight to these guys.

(Yes, it’s a very slow news day. Yes, it’s probably actually smart to not be outside today. But that’s not going to stop 40K+ for sitting in this heat for 4 hours tonight. Not much you can say about this team anymore besides 5 games over .500 seems to be the cap on 2012.)

The Cubs are an albatross. 

Hilarious in their eternal quest for greatness, committed to less than excellence. The Cubs, after 2012, will now have gone 104 seasons without hoisting a championship trophy above their collective heads. A staggering run of futility continually perpetuated to be something that actually will be overcome. Exhibit A.

Trouble is, they can’t win. They won’t win, because they can’t win.

Not in the sense that they are hindered from signing players that are better at their position than any other player. No, they can certainly do that if they want. But they can’t win in the same way that TV cannot have commercials or beer cannot have alcohol. Possibilities, both. But crippling to the economy of their product.

Since early 1990s when baseball had to do more than exist to make maximum profit, teams have had to devise a way to market themselves to attract attention. The Yankees were the evil empire. The Cardinals were the NLs most storied franchise with the best fans in baseball, etc al. Many teams have failed to brand themselves as much of anything. Miami is what? Loud? But the Cubs have won on this front. They’re the lovable losers. The teams that’s been around FOREVER, but hasn’t tasted success since your grandmother’s grandma was a baby.

The Cubs are built to lose. They make money losing. Winning ruins that.

Think about what happens if the Cubs did win the World Series. Several weeks of media coverage. Maybe the hugest victory parade ever. An off-season of Cub pumping. Then what?

The martyrdom that every Cub fan bases their cheering on ceases to exist. Boston, who also had a generational drought, had been close before. They were a good team that just didn’t happen to be better than the Yankees on several occasions. Once they got over the hump of winning a ring, their focus shifted from being cursed to trying to re-identify themselves as winners. Most seasons the Red Sox are good and competitive, though. The Cubs? The Cubs are bad most seasons.

Sans the ability to have a common bond of suffering, what do the Cubs become? A team, like any other, trying to find an identity.

Or…

They continue to lose, albeit by acting like they’re trying, and they keep making gobs of money of the suckers that root for them and believe that everyone is working towards a goal of winning the World Series.

Cubs fans, what are you doing? Just because you’ve been doing something a certain way your whole life, doesn’t mean it’s right. Or that you should keep doing it. Take your things and find a new team to root for. Or keep enjoying your weekends like the one you just had.
 

Some quick hits for your Friday... 

• Huge Batman spoiler. LINK HERE
• John is worried. Very worried. LINK HERE
• The 20 best Saved By The Bell athletic moments. LINK HERE
• Valid question, though. LINK HERE
• Unzipping world record. LINK HERE
• Serioulsy? This really happened? LINK HERE

Yes, Lobsters probably talk like that. Probably. 

Chances are you were at work yesterday when the Cardinals played. But if I asked you to guess what happened to them in their series finale with the Brewers, I bet you could guess.

Check these guys batting gloves, are we SURE that they’re aren’t claws in there?

The St. Louis LOBsters (Left On Basers) struck again. Leaving the bases loaded in the top of the ninth inning and squandering multiple scoring opportunities throughout the game. Some truly staggering stats are emerging post All-Star Game. Like having base runners in 42 of 55 innings played, but batting .157 when runners are in scoring position.

42 of 55!

Yet they’re averaging just above 2.0 runs per game. That’s almost impossible in the Major Leagues, people. This is a truly staggering display of offensive inefficacy. We’re not just witnessing LOBsters. No sir, we’re witnessing THESE LOBsters.

The magnetic pull of .500 is reeling back in the Cardinals once again. They surged to 6 games over before the break and now find themselves a mere 2 above sea level. Worse, the Cardinals are closer to fourth place in the NL Central than they are to first. And the trade deadline is looming on the horizon.

Maybe it’s a bit melodramatic, but lose this series to the Cubs at home this weekend, and it’s time to start thinking about the players the Cardinals can unload to prepare for 2013.

2102 is rotting away.

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You guys, I have something to confess. 

And with the Cardinals being ZERO fun to talk about and this site basically being a Bachelorette clearing house anyway, this seems like the appropriate time to bring it up. (I can only offer my sincere apologies to the people who come here for baseball insight.  However, the two of you should really know better.)

In any event, I’ve been going through a bit of a dating dry spell. 

I mean, of the last two guys to hit on me, one was married and the other was Ronnie Woo Woo. And nothing makes a girl think more critically of herself than the thought of dying alone under an afghan she made for herself.

So, I started looking inward to dissect all of those qualities that might deter Mr. Right and generated a HORRIFYINGLY long list. (Some examples: I’m impatient, I do not get HBO and I have VERY small knee caps.)

However, just as I thought my shame spiral could not go any further out of control, I watched the Bachelorette “Men Tell All” special.  And within this broadcast, I realized that maybe this isn’t completely my fault. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, I’m not quite the horrible hell beast that I was making myself out to be.

And it’s all because of Chris from Chicago.

First of all, Chris from Chicago, CALM THE F@#$ DOWN.

This dude is terrifying. He seems like the type of guy that might literally STAB YOU IN YOUR EYEHOLES WHILE YOU SLEEP. Watching him alternately gloat and glower at the camera made me realize that this is what I’m dealing with around here. JUST CHRIS’ FROM CHICAGO EVERYWHERE.

Meanwhile, you’ve got Hooksie with his huge man crush, John from St. Louis. I mean, HE LOVES THAT GUY. It makes me imagine Hooks walking along the streets of St. Louis falling in love with every other guy that he meets. And HE TOTALLY LIKES GIRLS! It just isn’t fair.

So I suppose my long winded point is that if John from St. Louis is the affable and self deprecating Cards fan to Chris from Chicago’s aggressive and bro-tastic Cubs fan, then I think we can all agree that my fate is sealed. If you need me, I’ll be at the pet store buying my first dozen cats.

PS:  If I were to learn how to make an afghan, where would I do that? I’m only asking for a friend.

PPS: Getting swept by the Reds was more painful than getting run over by a lawnmower. BASEBALL!!!