This was a tough position. There are quite a few good/bad first basemen who have played for the Cubs. Julio Zuleta, Phil Nevin, Eric Karros, Manny Trillo (1987 ver.), Carlos Pena, Xavier Nady. And go ahead and cry for Randall Simon, crybabies. It’s my list. If you’ve read anything I’ve written in the past 9ish years, you’d know there was only one clear choice for this position. Hell, you might even ask yourself if the only reason I started this list was to have a reason to write an article about the greatest Cub player of all time, DARYLE WARD. And I shan’t provide an answer to that musing, good sir. Daryle Ward is an awesome, lovable teddy bear, and he is the clear choice for the starting first baseman on the Best Bad Cubs Team of My Time.
The Cubs Convention is upon us and, for the first time in several years, I’m not going to be drinking heavily immediately outside of it while making snarky comments about Keith Moreland’s complexion and Gordon Wittenmyer’s affinity for Dewar’s. I’M SUCH A BITCH. Maybe we’ll have to schedule a drinking thing some time in the near future. One where a pantsless Clark the Cub won’t be lurking in the shadows. Sweating. His vodka-soaked breath dampening the inside of his nightmarish visage. Waiting until one of us strays far enough from the group to strike. For a franchise that hasn’t won a World Series since before man began building the Titanic, it’s amazing that THIS is the most embarrassing decision they’ve ever made.
“Hall of Lame” was too low-hanging, even for me. First of all, congratulations to Greg Maddux. It was a foregone conclusion that he’d be a Hall of Famer, but I’m just glad I know have two Hall of Fame beagles (Ryno and Maddux) in my house. That said, the Hall of Fame is fucking stupid, and the bouncers to this elite club are goddamn idiots. The links below will prove just that. But I’m not going to let that get in the way of the celebration of arguably the greatest pitcher of the generation. Congratulations, as well, to deserved Hall of Famers Tom Glavine and Frank Thomas.
Have you lost weight since the first of the year? Have you switched to e-cigarettes like an utter douchebag? Are you on the wagon? Have you been practicing guitar every day? How are your resolutions going? Probably better than the Muskbox’s, assuming her resolution was to use the Muskbox for helpful informational purposes in 2014. The new year brings a new Box. Same as the old Box.
Or Monday Roundup, whatever. My new year’s resolution was to try to get back into posting regularly. I didn’t say when, I didn’t say how, and I’ve never vouched for the quality. Happy New Year to those of you still obsessing over lunar cycles solar revolutions. For the rest of you, happy 68th of Smarch!
What a year the 2013 Cubs had! They avoided 100 losses, they fired their dull manager, they hired a new dull manager, and they watched Tony LaRussa get voted into the Hall of Fame. On this, the day after you drank alcohol and probably said something stupid to a hot girl, let’s give out some inaugural year-end awards. WELCOME TO THE ESSIES!
Hello, internet friends. The end of the year is nearly upon us! The biggest story of the Cubs’ offseason so far has been the inking of doubles machine Ron Coomer to the WGN radio gig. I’m glad Coomer got the job. Not because I think he’ll be good. He may be. I don’t know. I’ve never heard the guy. But at least Todd Hollandsworth won’t be guffawing up the broadcast. I can’t wait to hear how Pat Hughes introduces him. Santo was “Cub legend.” Moreland was “former Cubs star.” Coomer must be “former Cub backup third baseman.” I wonder how many lonely, confused, blue-haired widows are going to send a very confusing fax confessing their love for the new Ron. Based on his attendance game picks, Pat is going with a cool dozen.
If it seems like I’ve been neglecting you, I HAVE. You know. Life ‘n’ junk. Plus, now that the new Xbox is out, don’t expect daddy to come home straight from work any time soon. If only UPS would get here.
Hire Jim Essian has now been around for the hiring of Mike Quade, Dale Sveum, and Rick Renteria, and the Cubs haven’t even INTERVIEWED Skip. I’m starting to think I’m wasting my life. Eh. I’d probably just fritter the extra time away playing Tiny Death Star, anyhow. Welcome to November, the month where Quade-like dudes like me get really embarrassed explaining why we aren’t growing mustaches. I skipped shaving the upper lip for about four days, and I look like a high school sophomore. LINE UP, LADIES.