As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly. Proverbs 26:11
Harsh words from King Solomon, but so be it. Every year, like the swallows of legend, the Cubs return to HoHoKam for the annual optimism festival. Every year, the pitchers’ arms are fresh and strong, hitters’ eyes are steely and sharp, bats crack, gloves thump, and my hopes skyrocket. Will this be the year? It might be, it could be…the old sage trumpets in my ear from the great beyond, beckoning my spirit to dare to dream. As in many past visits to Arizona, there’s a new hand on the rudder, diligently reading from the spring training universal talking points memo. Trained observers can pick the clichés out of the air with the aplomb of a skeet shooter, as Skip reels ‘em off. “We’re gonna be solid fundamentally” Ka-boom! “If our pitchers stay healthy, we’ll be a force” Ka-boom! “I don’t believe in curses” Ka-boom! Ka-boom! Ka-boom!!
Still, it never fails. Springing anew, my hopes grow by the day, undaunted by the usual portents. Let’s take the old saws one at a time, shall we? First, fundamentals.
Something’s gotta give here. Either my beloved Cubs will learn how to advance a runner, hit the cutoff man, and play smart baseball, or Lou Pinella’s head will explode. Ol’ Lou does not suffer fools gladly, and regardless of salary or tenure, woe betide the player who repeatedly misses signs or air-mails throws home when pegging to second might keep another run from scoring. Pinella likes to claim his temper isn’t what it used to be, and in a way, he’s right. A fine wine that ages to vintage develops a deeper complexity, a “this flavor, only more so” feel. So Pinella’s temper. Yes, we will see a bit of the famed Tampa Red at Wrigley, a deeper, more complex, Pinella-only-more-so temper if the Cubs can’t straighten up and fly right. That in itself is well worth the price of admission. No manager today lets his passion for the game overcome him like Pinella, and last year’s team could have certainly used a shot of vitamin P.
Healthy pitching. The bugaboo of the 21st century Cubs. So, Woody fell getting out of the hot tub. At least he didn’t spike himself. Kerry Wood is John Wayne, riding headlong at opposing hitters, reins clamped in his teeth, firing a six-shooter with one hand, and a rifle with the other. Never mind the pain, doc, just gimme a bullet to bite on. I had a car like Kerry Wood once. Make and model withheld until the manufacturer sees fit to pay for the endorsement. The darn thing was indestructible, at least, it would keep going, despite any and all hardship. Ignition switch locked up? Just yank it out and start me with a screwdriver, it’d say. Ten below, and every other car in the lot won’t start? Take me over there, I’ll give ‘em a jump. That car jumped every hurdle ever presented to autokind, and racked up over 300 thousand miles. Who needs all five lugnuts? Electrical system? Just gimme enough juice to honk the horn, and get people outta my way! It was the Rooster Cogburn of cars, until cancerous rust claimed the back axle, and the driver’s side rear wheel literally fell off. Kerry Wood is Rooster Cogburn for the Cubs, a man with grit, as they say. This year, he’s starting off healthy, and if the prayers of Cub Nation are heard, he’ll stay that way.
Prayers are not enough to buoy the faithful when it comes to Mark Prior. Candles are lit, cracks are not stepped on, and salt is tossed over the left shoulder with the fervence of a flagellate. Prior can flat-out pitch, there’s never been any doubt on that score. Now I see that the kid gloves have come out. Some cars are like that, ya gotta wash ‘em every week, wax ‘em four times a year, change the oil at the minimum mileage, constantly check the tires, etc. Whatever it takes, that’s my motto, just so the beast will run.
Wade Miller will emerge as a very pleasant surprise, and CubNation will be telling each other, “I KNEW that son-of-a-gun could pitch!” and they’ll actually mean it. It’s so easy to get caught up in the annual Wood-Prior cliffhanger and Z’s contract brouhaha, that Miller, Hill, and the rest are overlooked.
That takes care of pitching. Now, to curses…
When talk turns to curses, all I can see is that hypnotist in “The Natural”…”losing is a disease…as contagious as the plague”. Yep, silly talk, this curse stuff. Don’t believe in it at all. Knock on wood. Curse? Nonsense! Salt over the left shoulder. Curse?? Balderdash! Was the Titanic cursed? Were the guys who opened the Pharaoh’s Tomb cursed? Have we all been beguiled by some side-show carny who couldn’t keep his stinkin’ goat in Wrigley 62 years ago? I use the phrase “stinkin’ goat” literally, because if you’ve ever been around goats, yes, they do stink. While I’m on the subject, what was this clown’s line of thinking? He brought his goat to the ballpark, and was stunned that his animal was kicked out? How can you be surprised that your goat isn’t allowed to stay in a box seat at a ballpark? Why bring the tin-can-eater in the first place? We’re supposed to believe that because this tavern owner couldn’t stay with his beloved horned bovine at Wrigley that approximately a quarter-century later Santo and company folded like cheap lawn chairs; almost forty years later, Leon Durham was Buckner before there was a Buckner; five years after that, Will Clark read Maddux’s lips; and durn near 60 years later, a fan and a foul ball sunk the Cubs? All this because of a stinkin’ goat? No way. Now, thanks to Sports Illustrated putting Lou and Soriano on the cover, we have to listen to endless blathering about the SI curse.
Sigh. How ‘bout if I applied this mentality to my own life? Every failure, every time I come up short, I could blame it on a curse! Simple! The flaw in that theory was exposed on “That 70’s Show” when Eric was complaining about a misfortune, and this (paraphrased for family consumption) dialogue ensued.
Eric: I don’t know, Dad, bad stuff just happens to me.
Red: No, son, you’re just an idiot.
So there. Curses are not why the Cubs haven’t won, unless of course, you consider being run by bean counters at a newspaper a curse. But enough of this talk, it’s spring.
The Cubs have just as much chance as any other team. As long as the pitching stays healthy.