I'm sorry I haven't been on here rigorously for some time. Life has caught up with me so to speak. I got a job at the local office supply store, I'm back in school, and so it pains me that my love affair with the Chicago National League Ballclub has been almost on hold.
We started the second half at a snail’s pace, then turned it on and dominated, until Saturday. In perfect Cub fashion, we've followed up a scintillating stretch of 7 consecutive wins with a quartet of losses. We were looking like we’d hit the century mark in wins pretty easily, but now, well not so much. The power is gone, minus Tuesday nights break out loss. Twenty-seven straight singles? What’s going on here? Where’s the team that is leading the world in runs? Where’s that team that sunk the Pirates with bomb after bomb? I know I can’t expect the offence to be at the highest level all season long, but 27 singles in a row is alarming. Something needs to be done, because anymore of this and I think I might have a heart attack.
This recent twist of events is rekindling past horrors of black cats and a strong duo of Seaver and Ryan chasing us. But this year, we’re dealing with another black cat (CC himself) and his duo with the fragile Ben Sheets. The parallels are there to be found, so sadly for my sanity, it seems like I have gone straight for it.
I don’t know if it’s because all Cub fans view a sweep as a precursor to sainthood and a losing streak as a sign of futily, but my paranoid ways are doing a number on me. I need to have faith. I’ve always believed in this team, without question. But my nerves are just really sensitive after He Who Shalt Not Be Named cost us a pennant.
I’m sorry this blog is far from my finest. I’m just scatterbrained, scared, paranoid, and nervous, so I’m just trying to speak from the heart the best I can. Notice, I didn’t mention the turmoil that is Carlos Zambrano. Just thinking about him and his arm makes me queasy.
Keywords: Carlos Zambrano, Chicago Cubs, Milwaukee Brewers
