The next several Cubs related posts will be collectively known as THE HUNT FOR BLUE OCTOBER. The focus will be on the 2008 team and the drive for the World Series.
First up is Alfonso Soriano, who many people already known is a bit of a douche nozzle.
Just within the past week, Deadspin released photos found on a 24-year old woman’s Facebook page that shows her canoodling with the married Soriano. The photos show Sori in a wife-beater (how appropriate!) surrounded by alcohol and smokes.
The question of his douchyness is less due to him cheating on his wife, which in itself is an unfortunate commonality among all MLB players and sports teams in general. The pure Cubs question is whether Soriano’s partying like this is on days off or game days? Is he dropping balls because he is hungover from dropping balls….in chicks mouths?
Tastless, yes. Unfortunate, yes. Unacceptable, yes.
This Cubs team is going to go down in history as one of the best of all time. The last thing we need is a controversy to draw attention away from the field. Sure, we can crucify Soriano and every other player who does the scummy thing like this, but wait until the season is over.
Thought I would share a link to download the Eddie Vedder song. This was captured from XRT and is perfect quality.
The skies had been opened wide for 3 days straight, the rain pouring onto the ground. The earth swelled and the water rose above, puddles becoming ponds and ponds becoming lakes. The air shifted colder and colder, a sense of forboding permeating the day. People are suffering throughout the South as the flooding brought back unsettling thoughts of destruction and loss. Nothing was right in the world.
Until Carlos Zambrano took the mound, prepared to show Houston a REAL hurricane.
Like a gunslinger or a gladiator returning from oblivion, Zambrano took the mound and the fate of his squad in his right hand. Geovany Soto nodded his head and extended his fingers and the game was under way.
As if on queue, the rain stopped and moved to the East. As if knowing what was happening, the air warmed a bit and the clouds separated. Something was Brewing.
6th inning, seventh. Eighth inning, 9th.
Over three decades of waiting and there it was. Before our very eyes, another record was achieved and the first no-hitter since Milt Pappas was in the record books.
It was a symphony. It was a masterpiece.
I will remember where I was, my sons sleeping in the other rooms, too young to know what this meant.
I will remember hitting record on my DVR, knowing that this was something to cherish and keep forever.
I will remember forgetting all the wrongs and ills in the world, if only for just a couple moments, as My Team mobbed Our Ace.
I will remember my friend texting me to tell me that this was his greatest day as a Cubs fan. I could sense the tears welling in his eyes that he could not have watched it with his father who taught him to be a Cubs fan.
I will remember that this was something that I will tell my kids about when they are older.
This was the moment the 2008 Cubs ceased to be a team rather than The Team.
I will always remember September 14, 2008.
Stuart Scott's Eye checking in.
If anyone reading this has checked out my separate blog, ROFLsports.com, they know I can be somewhat of a negative take on slides like the one the Cubs find themselves stuck in right now. But, part of being a Cubs fan is feeling that spiral sucking you in yet being unable to do anything but root for them to succeed beyond all probability and likelihood.
Until this year.
This year is different. This year is special. I can say that I will be crushed if the Cubs don't do what we all hope they will finally do this year, but even if they don't 2008 will be a significant year in the annals of Cubdom.
It seems that at every turn, the Cubs are breaking franchise records. For the first time in any of our lifetimes, this team looks not just good but great. The squad is solid and the pitching is top-notch.
Every year since 2003, a friend of mine would call me and discuss what the team needed to do to plug holes for the next season. We would argue trade scenarios and basically play fantasy GM for the North Siders. This is something I know many Cubs fans have done. It is something you have to do in order to maintain sanity, especially during those Dusty Baker seasons.
But I haven't done that this year. Sure, I fantasized about getting Sabathia and who else could solidify this team. But for the most part I was very content to just watch them trot onto the diamond and show every team who the big fish was in the National League.
I was so confident in this team that on June 6, 2008 when my second child was born, I gave him two middle names: Clark Addison.
My wife, who has been a Cubs fan longer than I, did not protest.
She has told me all season not to get my hopes up. She looks at me wearing my jersey and jumping up and down and yelling that this could be the year and shakes her head. She has seen the collapses. I know the skeletons in this team's closet, but cannot shake the fact that something feels different this year.
For the first time in almost a hundred years, success for the Cubs is like the wind blowing out and a home run is just waiting on deck to be hit out of the park.
Go Cubs Go!