One of the things I find galling about the Cubs being semi-no good so far this year is that it's getting in the way of my fully enjoying the meltdown on the South Side.
If memory serves, Baseball Prospectus pegged Club Ozzie to lose 90 or more games this season and BP was called out as just a bunch of know-nothing statheads.
The team at BP knows a lot, and in this case it's looking more and more like the doomsday forecast was right on--maybe a tad bit rosy, even.
Without the stellar pitching, defense, and longball-hitting that carried the day for his team in 2005, Ozzie Guillen is easy to see for what he is. Not a colorful, passionate leader who steps over baseball clichés on his way to the naked truth, but rather, just another loud-mouthed, baseball uniform-wearing jerk.
With each passing day, each six-hop throw from short right field by Jacques Jones and unexplainable lapse in judgment or physical failure by the rest of the Northsiders, I'm growing more resigned to the idea that the Cubs will be on the sidelines in yet another October, no matter how pathetic the NL Central. If my resignation is destined to be validated, there's a part of me that wishes the Cubs would just fall out of contention before the final days of the season.
At least that way, I'll be able to relax and turn on Comcast and listen to Hawk and DJ and be really, really focused when the Sox lose number 90.