Small Joy in Mudville

The Cubs imploded. So, where's the surprise?

This franchise's very calling card is defeat, and Cub fans identify with it in an almost sick way, which is why I find no irony in a Cub fan interfering with a ball that would have in all likelihood been the second out of the eighth inning. How perfectly fitting.

Now the Cubs and their fans, who were five outs from their first trip to the World Series since 1945, will have to agonize until the end of a deciding Game Seven, and then probably longer. It reminds me of a cruel joke my cousin and I used to tell about my brother.

Q: How do you set Rich up with a small business?
A: Give him a big one and wait nine months.

That, in a nutshell, is the story of Chicago Cub baseball.

But don't mistake me for one who is gloating over this misfortune. The only joy I can take from this is that the Marlin players were looking positively forlorn up until this point in the game, and with a tiny break going their way, the Marlins were energized and capitalized completely, scoring eight runs to leave all wearing blue at Wrigley in a state of shock.

Come to think of it, the resiliance of the Marlins should be the story here, but the mindless support of the perennial underdog is getting in the way.

Anyway, it was George Bush's fault. He was in the stands and interfered with Moises Alou. Damn that rascal George W. Bush!