sad-cubs-fan-heartbreakA little over 100 games into the Major League Baseball season, the Cubs find themselves in their customary role … the doormat of the national league.  Just how far behind are they?  A mere 15.5 games behind Milwaukee.

The Chicago Cubs are so bad they’d have to improve to suck.

I’m convinced being a Cubs fan is the most humiliating thing God could do. In fact, being a Cubs fan probably absolves most sin. One doesn’t even require an ‘absolution’ of sin, for the heavens simply look upon the pathetic soul and simply says, ‘Forgiven.’

Both my Ouija board and Slylock the medium operating out of defunct pickle factory down the street predicted the Cubs demise. However, no psychic readings were really required, for warning signs brewed within clouds hovering Waveland Avenue. First, Theo Epstein all but admitted that Dale Sveum was mistake. Moving onward into the season, there’s Junior Lake’s “want to get away” moment for wearing the wrong uniform on day three of the season.  You’d figure a teammate or even his mother would say, “Geez. Dude, wrong uniform.” Even ‘Clark the Cub,’ whose conception must have occurred in a Build-A-Bear Workshop, couldn’t prevent management from suing the unofficial mascot, Billy Cub, for continuing ‘unabated Mascot Activities’ and ‘unsavory actions.’ Lastly, Cubs cut ties with WGN radio after 90 years. “Hey! Hey!” Brickhouse would say.

In the real business world, if I made similar mistakes like Epstein, I’d be … err, unemployed. Managing the Cubs must be like driving a Yugo in Mercedes world. But hey … this is the Cubs, where mediocrity is accepted and the faithful continue in the “brotherhood of misery.

From a Buddhist perspective, our life existed before we were born and will continue onward after death.  For my 83 year-old father, I am hoping the Cubs can actually win like a few games before leaving this life. However, in full-disclosure, my father and I went to Wrigley for the hot dogs. Still, my biggest fear is he will pass and be reborn on the north side of Chicago … condemned to repeat a continual cycle all Cubs fans seem to doomed relive. I mean seriously, why couldn’t we have been born in Boston, Saint Louis, or even New York?

Some Buddhist texts detail several types of death. I will list three:

  1. The end of life – a natural end of our life;
  2. The exhaustion of merit – living without food, water, clothing, etc., that we die;
  3. Cub fan death – death at a time when one should not die, such as thrusting oneself out a window after a dropped pop fly, watching the bullpen blow another late inning lead or another Junior Lake “want to get away” moment.

The Chinese have said, “… at the time of death, the ghosts who feel injustice will come and ask for one’s life.” For Cubs management who someday will begin the journey toward the hallowed hallways of heaven, remember, you’ve precipitated in the dehumanization of fans. So I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m asking for my life back.

To Cub fans everywhere, I part with few words. Build-A-Bear is headquartered in Saint Louis, MO. Saint Louis is the place where Fred Bird rules and ‘unsavory actions’ don’t occur. Vienna Beef hot dogs are available at many places. And, the Buddha said, “No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.

Let’s save ourselves … please walk the path … to anywhere but The Friendly Confines.

The Cubs prognosticator predicts the Cubs will be 26.5 games out of first at season end. Magic Number – Meh!