Well, the writers in Milwaukee finally realized they have a baseball team, and now they’re trying to act all fired up about the Brewers by writing idiotic fluff. The article is in quotes. My snarky comments are not.

Admit it: You’re on edge.

Cranky.

Fat. Don’t forget fat.

Sleepless in Milwaukee.

Too many nights spent in front of a television, by a computer, or listening to a radio. “Multi-tasking,” you tell your spouse. Too many mornings reading the fine print of baseball box scores and standings, figuring out the math, double-checking the answers with the fifth-grader at the kitchen table.

And go to work, right? You’re still going to work, aren’t you? Who is going to man the breweries and the cheese and porn shops?

You’ve got pennant fever, and you are miserable.

You’re half right.

It has been a very, very long time since this illness has taken over your life. The words “pennant race” and “Milwaukee Brewers” appear in the same sentence about once every 25 years.

Are you kidding? I use them all the time. “Hey, isn’t it hilarious that the Brewers haven’t been in a pennant race for 25 years?”

Well, 25 years is now.

That should be, “25 years are now.” You’re welcome.

The Brewers are in the race. Right down to the wire, through summer and into – can this really be possible – autumn. So are the Chicago Cubs. They’re fighting for the National League’s Central Division title.

The teams are taunting you, inspiring you, confounding you.

Now you’re just being paranoid. I think you’re getting too much lactose.

The spouse is starting to wonder about your moods, connecting the dots between Brewers’ victories and defeats.

First fifth-grade math and now connect the dots? Are you the Mayor of Milwaukee, or something?

You are exuberant one day, lethargic, even bitter the next.

Um, that’s because you got drunk off Old Milwaukee last night, punched a cop, and woke up in a jail cell. Fun night. Rough morning.

You take out Webster’s New World College Dictionary and look up the word angst: “a gloomy, often neurotic feeling of generalized anxiety and depression.”

Can’t find it? Check under the short leg of your inflatable Packers armchair.

Yes, you think, that describes it.

Was it under there? No? Must have been on the cinder block bookshelf, huh?

You hate the Cubs because they’re from Chicago, period.

At least we have good excuses to hate you. Your shitty driving. Your run-down, dirty city. Your Jesuit schools. Your summer sausage that gave us heartburn so bad one time that we puked up bile.

No other excuses needed. But, just in case, you hate them even more when they start pulling out games in the ninth inning and you watch and hear those Wrigley Field fans who have suddenly put down their cell phones…

People are still doing this joke? Really? Any “yo momma” jokes you’re going to drop on us?

…and covered up their tank tops…

Don’t be jealous just because most of our women can fit into a single tank top instead of two taped together with duct tape.

…and roar for – good grief, can there be any nickname in baseball lamer than this – the “Cubbies.”

Yes, Charlie Brown, which is why only people who aren’t Cubs fans use the word “Cubbies.” Also, “Brew Crew.” Game. Set. Match.

So what if they’ve waited around a century for another World Series title in Yuppieville, Wrigleyville or whatever they call that neighborhood of bars and a ballpark on Chicago’s north side.

We call it Wrigley Field. We call your ballpark Wrigley North.

Shame about the schedule, though. When did the Brewers and Cubs last play each other? 2006?

August 30, 2007. Don’t you have access to the internet?

Deep in your heart you’re carrying on a love-hate relationship with the Brewers. Win it. Lose it. Just, for goodness sakes get this thing over with.

Which must be why you finally anted up and bought a single piece of Brewers paraphernalia, but then immediately felt guilty about it and tried to return it.

They had the lead early in the season. Life was very good. Then, they tossed away the lead.

Fascinating summary of the season. Still no internet access, huh?

You knew that was going to happen.

And you were fine with that, really, ready to move on with your life, prepare for winter, tune up the snow blower, learn everything you could about that 11th defensive lineman the Packers promised to carry around like a spare trunk on a world cruise.

Finally, a stat! About the Packers.

All of a sudden, the kids went back to school, and the Brewers started winning. At first, you didn’t believe it. Thought it was a fluke, a tease, like an 80-degree day in late September.

And then, you were like, “Why wouldn’t I believe the kids are going back to school? Where else would they go all day?”

You got interested again. Worked the remote control. Milwaukee. Chicago. Milwaukee. Chicago.

Can’t find those buttons? Check between “MUTE” and “INPUT.”

Prince Fielder launching moon shots.

You mean eating Moon Pies.

Chris Capuano not losing.

Yeah, I remember those 13 starts. Of course, I also remember the 16 Capuano starts in a row they did lose.

Now, you’re hooked – 24/7. You find yourself obsessing about Ben Sheets’ leg.

And trying to remember the name of that movie he starred in with The Rock where he was the kid with the rich dad in the South American jungle and The Rock was supposed to save him. And Christopher Walken was the bad guy.

Daydreaming about Rickie Weeks.

Yeah, I replay those clutch errors he made down the stretch to make myself feel better, too.

Putting under the microscope every move made by manager Ned Yost.

Must be a tough debate. “Was it a good idea to get tossed out of yet another game down the stretch?”

You’re barely savoring any of this. You hear the name Matt Wise and break into a cold sweat.

Don’t forget Turnbow!

Still, you watch the games on the field and the games on the scoreboard. You follow two teams, inning by inning, day by day.

Sunday, you’ll be in Green Bay, and you’ll stealthily tune into the Brewers on the radio. And when you hear Bob Uecker’s voice echoing through Lambeau you’ll suddenly realize that thousands of others are doing the same thing.

I sure hope Ueck isn’t drowned out by that idiotic high school cheer, “Go, Pack, Go!”

And as much as you’ll try to stop yourself, you’ll do something highly unusual for late September in Milwaukee – you’ll score a ticket for a Brewers game next week.

Tickets still available, huh? Eh. You’ll learn how to be a fan eventually.

When they come back to town Monday against the St. Louis Cardinals, they might be in first. They might be a few games out.

It was the second thing you said.

All you’re hoping for is a shot, a chance for this blessed turmoil to last a few days more.

Enjoy.

It would have been much more enjoyable had I not read this fluff piece without a coherent baseball thought in it. But thanks.