The Quintessential Cub

There is perhaps no single participant in their long and tortured history that more epitomizes the Chicago Cubs than Kerry Wood.

Wood’s career, which came to a stunning halt last Friday afternoon is a microcosm of baseball’s most cursed franchise. It arcs and falls just like a typical Cub season. Which is to say it started with unbridled optimism, peaked early, crashed and burned late and ultimately fell spectacularly short of expectations. The often repeated mantra of the Cub fan, the promise of next season being “the year” became inextricably linked to the promise and failure of Wood being healthy.

Chicago’s long suffering, north-side baseball fans suffered the demise of two brilliantly talented pitching phenoms within one presidential administration. Understand however that you will find little sympathy in Chicago for Mark Prior’s parallel meltdown. Not with Prior’s surly personality and resounding rumors that he was chemically enhanced. The Wood story by comparison is a Greek Tragedy, in a strictly athletic context.

Kerry Wood was everything you want an athlete to be. He was a superior talent with a warrior mentality. He seemed to get how lucky he was to play baseball for a living and was a genuinely committed professional. He wanted to win and possessed the perfect mix of talent, work ethic and determination to make it happen.

Alas that perfect mix was all too frequently spoiled by his imperfect right arm.

I am by no means a baseball historian. There are many whose knowledge of the game dwarfs my own. With that caveat I will say this; the greatest game I ever saw pitched was by Kerry Wood in May of 1998. Kid K earned his nickname that day by striking out 20 Houston Astros, allowing just one hit in the process. If you believe that only a no-hitter or perfect game is subject to the accolades I’m giving this performance, I beg you to find a copy of the game. You will see that for nine innings, Wood made a baseball defy every conceivable law of physics.

I cannot remember who but one Houston player said simply, “we could not touch him today.” And he was right. For nine remarkable innings, Wood turned major league hitters in to over-matched little leaguers. If I did not know better, I would have thought Jim Rigglemen one of those unscrupulous little league managers that doctors birth certificates to use over aged players in Williamsport.

Wood’s performance created meteoric expectations for a hundred years of drought stricken Cub fans. His brilliance fueled Cubs fans to dream the impossible dream; a World Series championship.

As is so often the case on Chicago’s north side, the reality never matched up.

Before the season ended Wood was clutching his overworked elbow in pain. Even as it was brutally obvious that their prized prospect’s arm was breaking down the Cubs irrationally let him start a playoff game after six weeks on the shelf. Before the 1999 season started the great Kid K was undergoing Tommy John surgery on his damaged limb.

The whole surreal story seemed so “Cub-like.”

He returned in 2000 and struggled for three seasons to regain his form. And for one magical season in 2003 he did just that. Right up to doing was here-to-fore consider impossible, leading the Cubs to a playoff series victory over Atlanta in the first round. At that moment it seemed Kerry Wood was back to being the savior he was expected to be.

A week later the impossible dream (or sign of the apocalypse depending on your perspective) was one win away. The Cubs lead the NLCS 3 games to 1 and Chicago, at least north of Madison Street, was dancing with an electricity not seen since the Michael Jordan era. The century long prayers of tormented fans were on the verge of resolution, with Kerry Wood front and center.

Four days later they completed an epic collapse; with Kerry Wood front and center in game 7.

It’s debatable whether the Cubs as a franchise ever recovered from that nightmarish breakdown. What is not debatable is that Wood was never the same. The Cubs spent the next five years recklessly trying to purchase their lost glory through free agency. Wood spent much of that time on the disabled list as his arm continued its systematic breakdown.

By the time Jim Hendry’s $120 Million nightmare of a team rekindled the naive hopes of Cub fans in 2008, Wood was volunteering his way to the bullpen to salvage his failing career. I consider his willingness to endure the indignity of pitching in middle relief a sign of his character; a man willing to do whatever was necessary to help his team and stay in the game he loved. I also believe it one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen on a major league field.

Only the Chicago Cubs could turn arguably the greatest pitching prospect of this generation in to an 8th inning set-up guy. Only for that franchise could such a talent win just 86 career games; excruciatingly extended over 15 seasons. And only the Cubs could break the spirit of the ultimate competitor so much that he would walk off the field and retire at mid-season.

Even Wood’s swan song epitomized Cubs baseball. It was 41,000 fans basking triumphantly in an essentially hollow moment of glory. Don’t get me wrong, Wood deserved the ovation and the adulation for his heart and dedication alone. That said, nothing says Chicago Cubs baseball like an over the top celebration for a meaningless play by a last place team. That it was achieved against their hated rival and equally floundering measuring stick on the South Side only furthers the comparison.

The moment was remarkably fitting a franchise whose fans dance and sing in the isles, celebrating victories triumphantly to the ridiculously hokey “Go Cubs Go” song while they are mired in last place.

For my money, Kerry Wood deserved better than that. The man had the talent and the drive to be an all-time great. Sadly he spent his formative years testing the limits and endurance of the human arm, elbow, and shoulder. There is a reason he was able to make a baseball perform miraculous acts that May day in 1998. It’s the same reason he was under a knife six months later. The human elbow is just not built to continuously snap off 92 mile per hour sliders

It seems pointless and anti-climactic to state the obvious; that Wood never got the Cubs to a World Series let alone broke the longest championship drought in the history of professional sports.

To his ultimate credit, Wood battled to the very end. Unlike Prior, he never acted like a pampered superstar; never thought he was too good for the game. He never complained about being blatantly overworked by the bullpen challenged Dusty Baker even though that likely contributed sharply to his demise. And he gave the Cubs at least moments of brilliance; far more than they got from failed prospects Corey Patterson and Felix Pie.

Wood deserves credit for that. Glorifying it sets the bar far too low in the context of his potential. In the end, Wood will be remembered far more for what he was not, than what he was.

Kerry Wood the person is a hall of famer. Kerry Wood the player is the quintessential Chicago Cub

Chicago’s Shame – The Disgraceful Treatment of Steve Bartman

This Tuesday night, ESPN will present one of its 30 for 30 documentaries covering what I consider the most shameful and disgraceful event in recent sports history.  The moment an ordinary Chicago baseball fan bore the full brunt of his team’s horrific playoff collapse.

Trust me I’ll be tuned in.  I’ll be fascinated to see if ESPN attempts to humanize or exploit the story.  My fervent hope is the former, my considered fear the latter.

In three decades as a sports fan, I cannot remember an on the field event that sickened me as much as the Steve Bartman debacle.  It involves a despicable and frightening lack of perspective and class by everybody involved; the Chicago Cubs, the city of Chicago, the fans and the media.

Each played a role in nearly destroying the life of an everyday citizen and fan; a person whose only crime was deflecting a foul ball in a critical moment.  A foul ball that probably though not definitely would have otherwise been caught by Moises Alou.

And he was not alone.  Several other fans reached for that ball; Bartman just happened to be the unlucky SOB who made contact.  I beg you all to make note of that should you watch the documentary.  It was an instinctive reaction that nearly every fan would have; and it was a fluke.  All of which seemed irrelevant in the subsequent witch hunt.

It should have been left at that.  The Cubs were still leading game 6 of the NLCS 3 to 0, still five outs away from their first World Series in nearly 60 years.  The game and the series were still very much in their control.

Instead they collapsed, and the fan became a convenient scapegoat for a second rate organization with a dreadful history of failure.  Not to mention an underachieving group of players and an enabling manager that were subsequently exposed for a disturbing lack of character.

After the Bartman tip, the team imploded.  Starting pitcher Mark Prior was working on fumes thanks to blatant and moronic overuse by his do nothing manager Dusty Baker.  The bullpen was not good enough to bail him out.  And on top of that, the teams’ $6 Million dollar all field, no hit shortstop tanked a routine double play grounder that would have put this entire story to rest.

Even with all of that, the Cubs had another chance in game 7.  They lost that game as well, looking defeated before they even took the field.  And with that loss evaporated their best chance in two decades to end a century long streak of championship futility.

Baker and his players should have taken the full blame for what was an epic collapse.  They did not.  The fans and the media jumped on the fan angle, and the Cubs happily went along for the ride.  Some like Baker directly blamed Bartman.  Others did so tacitly by refusing to dismiss the idea on site for what it was; patently ridiculous.

I remember watching Baker’s postgame press conference.  When asked about Bartman’s interference he muttered something about, “we would like our fans to be smarter than that.”  The minute I saw that, I knew Bartman was fried in Chicago.  I knew the fans and media would jump all over it (though I did not expect the local gossip rag to publish his name address, and employer).

Can you imagine Bill Cowher blaming a fan for a Steelers’ collapse?  Remember how he handled the disgusting miscarriage of officiating justice that was the overturned Troy Polamalu interception in the playoffs at Indy.  In the most critical moment, under the greatest of pressure he told his defense; WHATEVER HAPPENS, WE JUST PLAY.  And after the game he refused to blame the officials for the horrendous call.

That’s what leaders do.  That’s what people with character do.  Dusty Baker sat in the clubhouse chomping a toothpick while his team disintegrated, then delegated responsibility to a fan.  And I don’t recall anybody associated with the Cubs, not one player, coach or management representative publically attempt to defuse the situation.

It only got worse from there.  Chicago fans and media turned on Bartman, using the same myopic scapegoating previously applied to the likes of Bill Buckner and Scott Norwood.  What happened to Buckner was also disgraceful; nobody ever mentions that the Red Sox choked away a two run lead BEFORE HIS ERROR, but at least he was a paid professional.  His job included dealing with such criticism, deserved or not and he was well compensated for it.  However unfair it was, Buckner signed on for what he got.

Steve Bartman did not.

Even worse, the Chicago media, led by the insufferable Jay Marriotti started a witch hunt that lasted for years.  The national media jumped on board though only in fits and starts.  Marriotti found a way to impugn Bartman in writing with regular frequency.  He simply refused to let the non-story die even when Bartman, through his deafening public silence made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with it. 

That’s the same Jay Marriotti whose resignation from the Chicago Sun Times was one of the most celebrated events in Chicago sports history; by fans and colleagues alike. 

Over the next few years we learned the truth about the Cubs.  They were not a dynasty in the making derailed by the careless act of an unlucky fan.  They were in fact a team dreadfully lacking in character or accountability.  The initial symptom was Alou’s three year old girl temper tantrum on national TV after the tipped ball.  What followed was a steady collapse, first over two playoff games and then over three years where the team degenerated bit by bit.

Prior and Kerry Wood’s arms nearly fell off from blatant overuse by Baker.  That includes Dusty’s mind numbing decision to leave Prior in game two for 130 pitches (including batting him in the 7^th inning)…WITH A TEN RUN LEAD.  Every think Prior might have gotten through that infamous 8th inning if Baker had let the bullpen deal with a double digit lead say 30 pitches earlier?  One might even speculate that he would not have been out of baseball two years later.

The Sammy Sosa myth was subsequently obliterated as well.  He went from lovable home run hero to steroid blow up doll and locker room parasite.  The Cubs ran him out of Chicago and erased him from memory, even releasing Zapruder film like footage of him bailing on the team the next year.  Several other players lead by Alou started threatening the team’s announcers, including former Cy Young winner Steve Stone, for obvious and accurate criticism of their increasingly miserable play.  During this time Baker continued to publically support them at all turns, refusing to enforce even a hint of accountability.

And let’s not forget a young Carlos Zambrano was the number three starter on that club.  We know now that Big Z and his budding psychosis were headed for much bigger calamities.

In short, the next three years exposed the 2003 Cubs as a phony; a fraud.  The team had great talent; but lacked the heart, character, integrity or leadership necessary to win a championship.  When faced with the slightest bit of adversity they crumbled on and off the field.

 In the immediate aftermath of a crushing defeat and without visibility to the future most could not see that.  Not the organization, the media, and certainly not the fans.  Most could not see beyond another cruel blow to America’s most tortured fan base.  And willingly or not, almost everyone turned a blind eye to millionaire athletes and coaches happily offloading responsibility for their failure on an unsuspecting fan. 

Even worse, many fans and media members actively participated.  It was sickening on every level. 

There are absolutely no heroes or good guys here.  Not one.  Nobody had the courage or integrity to publically defend Bartman from a pathetic baseball inquisition.  What was done to him was disgraceful and indefensible on any level.  And as ESPN will prove for better or for worse Tuesday night, it’s still happening eight years later.

Everyone involved owes Steve Bartman a heartfelt apology, starting with the Chicago Cubs.  Sadly, I doubt it will ever be delivered.

A Lifetime of Continuous Baseball Agony

I freely admit to being a bandwagon baseball fan. To be honest, given my jaded history with America’s pastime I could be far worse.

I started watching baseball in 1980, the year after the Pirates won their last World Series (and probably last ever). I jumped full throttle off the Pirate bandwagon in 1995; about the time they became a nationwide object of sports ridicule. My salvation was to hitch a ride with arguably the most pathetic franchise in the history of sports. I’ve seen seven playoff series losses and two of the most epic playoff collapses in sports history, while losing track of the total number of losing seasons.

Seriously, one might wonder why I pay any attention to baseball at all.

Amazingly, my years backing the Cubbies now all but match my years with the Buccos. The obvious question, which is worse?

Sort of like asking which is worse; the stock market or real estate collapse? Brussel sprouts or wheat germ? Rosie O’Donnell or Rosanne. John and Kate Plus 8…or Kate Plus 8. You get the point.

Actually the Buccos and the Cubbies have a lot in common these days. Both are known for a ballpark experience that far exceeds the product on the field. The Pirates have arguably the nicest new park in baseball and I still say there is nowhere better on earth than Wrigley Field on a sunny weekend afternoon.

Imagine how great these places would be if the teams could win every once in awhile.

So I ask again; which is worse. A team that has not won the World Series in over a century, but is at least competitive every few years; or a team that has not had a winning season in 18 years? That’s nearly two decades without winning 81 stinkin games. There are people joining the army or voting today who have never seen the Buccos finish above 500.

Let’s be clear here, I’m not sure there is a good answer to this question. I would grudgingly go with the Cubs just because at least in theory they have a shot each year. Just as in theory, I had a shot at dating the homecoming queen in high school. Just as in theory, Disque may one day be President of the United States. You get the point.

Since I’ve been in Chicago, the Cubs have made the playoffs 4 times. In three of those years, they were swept out of the playoffs. As for the fourth…yikes.

The fourth year was 2003. That’s when Kerry Wood, Mark Prior, Sammy Sosa and the boys were 1 win away from the World Series. Let’s be clear here, the Cubs were 5 outs away with a 3-0 lead in game 6. Then they imploded because some poor schlub in the stands nicked a foul ball and a $6 Million shortstop could not field a routine double play grounder. Oh and don’t even get me started on Kyle Farnsworth, or more accurately, Stan Belinda reincarnated.

I mean seriously folks; only the Cubs could blow a shot at the World Series because a great glove, no hit middle infielder fails to field a routine ground ball late in the game…right?

WRONG!

Since I’m pouring salt in everybody’s wounds, we all know the same thing happened with Chico Lind in 1992. Twenty agonizing minutes before (NAME NEVER SPOKEN) drove home Sid Bream with the slowest game winning jaunt from 2nd base ever, the Pirates’ gold glove 2nd baseman botched a sure fire, game winning play. Forget the poor idiot in the stands at Wrigley. When Alex Gonzales botched the double play ball a few batters later, I knew for sure the Cubs were toast.

This is the path I’ve chosen in life folks. And people wonder why I’m such a huge hockey fan?

Let’s remember, I did not just miss the Pirates last World Series by one year. That would have been bad enough. I was fortunate enough to show up just in time to see the key cogs of that team fall under an embarrassing cocaine scandal that stained the entire franchise. As much fun as we had torturing Weet with the Willie Stargell cocaine stories in high school, I would just assume the whole thing never happened.

It’s easy to forget that the Pirates of the 80s were every bit as pathetic as they are now. It just did not last quite as long. I lived through George Hendrick and Steve Kemp. I lived through Jason Thompson, the Sominex superstar. An unwatchable team in a terrible stadium and there but for the grace of Amos Otis go I.

And then came this brilliant five year run under Jimmy Leyland. A young, talented, entertaining team with arguably the greatest player in baseball, a fine fellow named Barry Bonds. You would think such a team could have produced at least one World Series but no! We had to sit through a Twilight Zone style three year recurring nightmare of playoff losses, each more painful than the last. That’s without even considering that mind numbing tomahawk chop which still gives me nightmares today.

Not only did the Pirates lose, they found a way to stretch every game to about four hours of pure agony. Honestly, why not just settle in for a four hour root canal without anesthetic? Is it any wonder that Leyland would smoke two packs of cigarettes every nine innings?

Thankfully they tore the whole thing apart and replaced it with a Triple A team for the last 18 years. Bonds became a national hero, then a national disgrace and I became a Cubs fan. Frankly I think Barry and his enormous head got the better deal.

The Cubs have this reputation as being lovable losers but anyone who endured Sosa, Prior, and Moises Alou knows that’s not really true. I’ve seen Sammy cork his bat and clam up before congress. I saw Alou pimp out that poor schlub in the stands rather than take responsibility for his team’s collapse. I remember Kent Mercker and the boys threatening Steve Stone for having the audacity to point out how bad they were. Maybe Kent could have spent less time avenging the Stone Pony and more time on his curve ball?

Keep in mind I have not even brought up the Carlos Zambrano reality hour yet. I could probably do 1,800 words on him alone. Millions of aspiring psychology PHDs would like a shot at that guy.

I could put up with all of this if the Cubs would just win once in awhile but they never do. They go out and spend $140 Million on aging, overpaid players who don’t give a you know what and then find a way to choke. They have a general manager who thought Milton Bradley was the answer to the team’s problems; which is comparable to taking rat poison to help your upset stomach. Why not just bring Ted Bundy in to the clubhouse?

In fairness to Jim Hendry, the Bradley debacle came after Lou Piniella pinned his team’s 2008 playoff meltdown solely on not having a left handed power hitter. And Bradley only accused half the city of racism; you know just the north side.

The Pirates lose every year in part because they have no money. The Cubs have $140 Million and spend it like Richard Pryor in Brewster’s Millions. To steal a line from that underrated classic, pick NONE OF THE ABOVE !

I attended the Cubs one game playoff victory over San Francisco (which was apparently Dusty Baker’s managerial audition) in 1998. I remember thinking the post game celebration was World Series like in nature. When I pointed that out to a fellow Cubs fan he replied…”how would we know?”

Seriously, that one victory and Leyland dressing down Bonds in 1992 might just be the two highlights of my baseball life. I can’t even really enjoy the memories of Sammy’s run to 62 dingers in ‘98 since he apparently did so with more than Flintstones vitamins in his system. My only regret is that Kerry Wood got to take a Louisville slugger to Sammy’s infamous boom box, rather than me. By the way, Wood’s shoulder feels really good this year.

I make no apologies for bailing on the Pirates; I still say they bailed on their fans 18 years ago. We should all just be thrilled that MLB does not have relegation like English soccer.

All I ask is for the love of all that’s good and holy, WHY DID I GO FROM THAT TO THE CUBS? I should have done what every other baseball free agent does and pick the Yankees.

Honestly, I think Pirate fans are better off than Cubs fan. They are numb to the pain. They go in to each season with little or no hope. They don’t expect to see wins. Going to a Pirate game is like taking your daughter miniature golfing. It does not really matter who wins; it’s just 150 minutes of entertainment for a relatively cheap price.

The Cubs tease their fans into thinking (as we often say) that “this could be the year.” Then they find new and innovative ways to collapse. They brawl in the dugout and smash water coolers with far more success than baseballs. And then they win 1 of 3 home games and 35,000 intoxicated fans gleefully sing ‘Go Cubs Go’ in the stands as if their life is complete.

So maybe Cubs and Pirate fans are not so different?

So as I ponder a life time of baseball futility amongst another lost season in Wrigleyville and the Burgh, I’m left with just one comforting thought. Just six weeks until hockey season !