Devilment

I feared the Cubs had made a deal with the devil when the Ricketts family assumed control back in 2009. Eminently wealthy and—with the exception of daughter Laura—vociferous supporters of all things Republican, I did my best to ignore that and focus on the promise of the latest regime change.

And the Ricketts (okay, Tom) mostly did a pretty good job. After some initial floundering on the baseball side, he landed Theo Epstein in 2011. If nothing else, Ricketts knew the importance of having a highly-talented captain to guide the ship.

It is said that lightning never strikes twice, and yet that is exactly what happened under Epstein's tutelage.

After putting an end to the Boston Red Sox' championship drought, he started in on the Cubs'. Building from the ground up, he installed knowledgeable scouts with which to stock the farm system. That talent could be used to either build a club at the major league level or as trade bait towards bringing older, more-seasoned ballplayers to Chicago.

The farm system yielded a respectable bit of fruit, even if the harvest was a little light on pitching. And Epstein gradually acquired a nice mix of veterans to augment the youngsters. By 2015, the Cubs were contenders.

And we all know what happened in 2016, don't we?

Alas, the wheels began to fall off not long afterwards. Maybe it's Chicago's blind idolatry of its baseball and football champions, but the Cubs regressed almost immediately. While not as dominant as the 1985 Bears, they resembled them in their post-championship self-satisfaction.

Some blamed Joe Maddon's overly-permissive managerial style. Others blamed the players. But regardless of why, the Cubs receded almost as quickly as they had emerged. True, they rallied in the second half of '17 and made it to the NCLS. But in three succeeding seasons, they failed to even win a wild card game.

Without so much as lip service paid to the idea of signing some combination of Anthony Rizzo, Kris Bryant and Javier Baez to long-term contracts, Ricketts now appears on the verge of painting himself into the same corner notorious A's owner Charles O. Finley did in 1976, and risks losing multiple frontline athletes with no compensation whatsoever.

With Cy Young candidate Yu Darvish traded away for four very minor prospects and Jon Lester, Tyler Chatwood, Jose Quintana and Kyle Schwarber lost to free-agency, it's little wonder Epstein saw the writing on the wall and left with a year remaining on his contract.

Even before the onset of COVID, Ricketts repeatedly stated “There is no more money.” With a full-bore salary dump in progress one could be excused for asking “There is now, right?”

One also wonders what Ricketts has planned for Willson Contreras, Jason Heyward and Kyle Hendricks. And how this salary dump, with so very, very little received in return, positions the Cubs as ongoing contenders?

It's tough not to see baseball's version of Jerry Jones taking shape, who like Ricketts rebuilt a once-dominant franchise, made a big splash with some Super Bowl victories and then lapsed into mediocrity while turning the Dallas Cowboys into his personal ATM.

While Jones has seeming forgotten everything he once knew about running a winning NFL franchise, the Cowboys spout money like a severed artery does blood. With Rickett's multiple improvements to Wrigley Field and his developments in the surrounding neighborhood, imagining his business plan suddenly doesn't take so much, well, imagining.

Cub fans deserve better than another interminable slide into nothingness with spinning turnstiles and the Rickett's rosy bottom line priority number-one.

Yep. Devilment for sure.

Exhaling

Whew. It's over. Officially, incontrovertibly over.

For the first time in four years there is an emotionally-stable grown-up in the White House.

One who has a clue.

One put there by a plain and simple majority of Americans. Americans wearied and disgusted by the Trump brand of “leadership.”

Like his Democratic predecessor, President Biden has a massive job ahead of him. Not only must he lead a nation besieged by a runaway pandemic and its seemingly bottomless financial fall-out, but must undo the damage wrought by the (cough) “law and order” president.

It's a two-pronged job that will undoubtedly encounter strident Republican opposition.

Yes, moving forward while simultaneously filling-in craters behind you is no easy thing.

Mr. President and Ms. Vice President, I wish you nothing but the best. We are in desperate need of leaders—as opposed to sneering, podium-pounding “authority”.

I pray you are able to surmount the obstacles in front of you and can return us to a normal that, while not perfect—is infinitely better than what so many of us face today.

God bless you.

The Shifting Sands of Republicanism

After four years of angry and contrarian Republican rule that saw them wield power like a policeman does their truncheon, Republicans are suddenly concerned with healing.

Marco Rubio (R-FL) and Jim Jordan (R-OH) are reluctant to consider impeachment because it might—in their words—add to our collective sense of divisiveness and interfere with our nation's unity. Awww.

What a shame that wasn't on the agenda in 2017. Or 2018. Or 2019. Or most spectacularly, in 2020.

Why weren't you concerned about healing two months ago instead of fueling the fire of a deranged mob's belief that the election had been stolen? Why weren't you concerned a month ago? Why did it take the loss of the White House, the Senate and a violent mob's break-in of the Capitol to work 'healing' into your vocabulary?

Listen. I'm all for healing. Unity. I pray for them. The reduction in national stress would be profound.

But in diverting attention away from an unhinged psychopath and allowing him to continue in office—yes, even for eight days—you're doing more harm than healing. The law-abiding portions of this country demand consequences for Donald Trump.

You belong to the self-declared party of law and order. Don't you?

I ask you, Senators: what's more pressing than disconnecting a terrorist from his ability to terrorize? From acting to ensure the democracy of the United States survives him and the legion of goons at his beck and call?

It's probably because I'm a libtard and/or radicalized socialist, but I can't think of anything. When the house is on fire gentlemen, job number-one is to put out the fire.

Too many Republicans continue to fear Trump. They fear backlash should they grow a spine and say “Enough!”

Snowflake I may be, but I know a self-centered pig interested only in nourishing his bottomless craving for adulation and attention when I see one. This is not about conservatism. It's not about immigration. It's not about abortion. It's not about god. Or guns. Or country.

It's about Donald J. Trump. It's about the United States of Don. Make no mistake. It's not about you or what you believe. It's about Don. 

First, last and always.

To his followers, I'm sorry you're unhappy and angry and desperate to the point where Donald Trump is an answer. I respectfully inquire: to what?

Is the ability to freely call a Black person a nigger or to harass gays or to abuse women really that important to you? Is it really worth of all of....this?

Is it?

Again, I'm sorry for your pain. I'm sorry you feel ignored. But um, didn't your guy win last time? Didn't you have four years of government just the way you like it? Tell me: after having it your way for four years, are you any happier? Do you feel more satisfied? Fulfilled?

Or are you just more angry?

I invite your commentary.

And Senators? Some things are more-important than party. I hope you're big-enough to acknowledge it. But I'm not holding my breath.

A Peek at the NFL Post-Season

This is a satisfying end to the NFL season. Best of all, there isn't a team from Los Angeles in serious contention for a title. I mean, watching the Lakers and the Dodgers clinch within sixteen days of each other was a bit much.

Yeah, the Rams are in the playoffs. But despite a fine defense, no one expects them to do much—if any—damage.

Far more heartening are the returns of the Cleveland Browns and the Buffalo Bills to the post-season.

As a Cub fan, I can relate mightily with Clevelanders and their sports-based suffering. And both editions of the Browns have contributed more than their fair share to that suffering.

Who can forget the 1987 and 1988 AFC Championship games? Or the heroic 1981 effort in the Divisional round against the then-Oakland Raiders, played in four-degree temperatures with wind chills of twenty-below?

Or the ignomy of Red Right 88?

Do I dare remind all concerned the Browns lost these three games by a total of ten points? Perhaps not.

The Browns declined not long after those consecutive championship games and a very messy relocation to Baltimore followed after the 1995 season.

The expansion Browns have suffered (there's that word again) a difficult childhood. With just two random winning seasons in their first twenty-one, weary Clevelanders have again had their faith tested.

And just as the forlorn franchise has finally bundled a functional front office, strong coaching and the on-field talent to win, they get smacked by COVID-19. It's not hard to imagine the city's sports fans beseeching an uncaring God, arms extended and palms turned up in supplication, with “What did we ever do?”

It takes a heartless soul, indeed, to root against them.

Which brings me to the Buffalo Bills.

I never had any feelings for them one way or another until they made it to four consecutive Super Bowls in the early-nineties—and lost all four.

I was old-enough to appreciate the special kind of grit it took to return to the stage where they'd repeatedly lost. And when I learned via an ESPN documentary the city had turned out and cheered kicker Scott Norwood (he of the 'wide right' infamy), I recognized Buffalo and its fans as people with very big hearts.

Like their soulmates in Cleveland, Bills fans have suffered ever since. Rebuilds have come and gone with the only common denominator being they failed to bear fruit. (The Bills haven't won a playoff game in a quarter-century.)

But a winning combination of front office executives, coaches and players has finally been assembled, and the Bills are surging and represent a serious threat to virtually every other team in the AFC.

In fact, given the just-good-enough play of the defending-champion Kansas City Chiefs over the second half of the season, I would only be mildly surprised to see them defeated by Buffalo at some point.

The good news for fans of my hometown Chicago Bears is that tomorrow afternoon's game versus the New Orleans Saints will be the final game of the season.

This awkward assemblage of talent sputtered and lurched through another season, routinely failing to realize expectations heightened by their performance in 2018. It should be clear to all concerned by now that season was an aberration, not a trend.

In its wake, warmed-over kudos to GM Ryan Pace and head coach Matt Nagy.

Pace for mostly having done a pretty solid job on draft day. The primary exception being the selection of Mitchell Trubisky with the second-pick in the 2017 draft—after surrendering draft picks to move up a spot and paying a king's ransom to sign a career back-up QB.

In a league dominated by quarterback play, Pace whiffed spectacularly on the biggest pick of his career. Kindly ignore that two young quarterbacks by the name of Patrick Mahomes and Deshaun Watson were also on the board.

Historically, it's a given that the Bears screw-up at quarterback. It's practically congenital. But choosing Trubisky over Mahomes and Watson was a fatal error. One magnified both by a promising defense and the thin talent surrounding him on 'O'.

Nagy was hired from the Chiefs as an offense-oriented whiz-kid. One able to create dynamic squads capable of lighting up the scoreboard in an era where offense clearly dominates.

Granted, he hasn't been given much to work with. But I am struck by the fact the Bears' offense was on life-support until Nagy handed play-calling duties off to offensive coordinator Bill Lazor.

While that brief resurgence was against the 98-pound weaklings of the NFL, it was something.

You have to ask yourself: if Nagy failed at what was reputedly his strength, what about the areas that weren't?

To his credit, he kept the team focused and upbeat. But that only goes so far. And with the Bears obvious strength (defense) seemingly in a premature decline, this is a franchise with many, many questions to answer.

I distinctly remember as the twentieth anniversary of the Bears' 1963 championship was approaching, the intensity of the widespread irritation at how the Bears had failed to mount even a single credible threat in the ensuing years.

With the twentieth anniversary of their 1985 championship now fifteen-years old, you have to wonder what the future holds.

It may only be a matter of time before empty seats at Soldier Field aren't the byproduct of a pandemic.

 

The Trump Tantrum: Day 64

With an unbalanced and deranged man presently heading the United States, you have to ask yourself what's next?

This creature, completely unable to process the events of November 3^rd, is suffering a catastrophic psychological episode and everything—everything—is on the table that might reconcile his battered psyche with what is no doubt an unimaginably twisted sense of retribution.

This man is a terrorist. He needs to be treated as such. Twitter understands this. For starters, he must be censured. Then he must be removed from office.

On a more humane note, he should be checked into a psychiatric facility until he is well. Then it is critical he be made to face the mountain of charges filed against him. Accountability has never been needed more-urgently.

By rights, he should be stripped of his presidential pension and his lifetime of taxpayer-supported security. It is obscene that those who have suffered at his hands financially, materially and health-wise be made to ensure a lifetime of safety for him and his family.

Supporters embraced Donald Trump because he was an outlier. A maverick. I've never fully understood how a billionaire real estate developer from Manhattan qualifies as an outsider, but then I have a brain. 

An outsider as president is a good thing because? 

Finally, isn't it pitiable that the abundant law enforcement agencies in and around Washington DC didn't treat this as a BLM march? Just imagine the scores of heavily-armed militia that would have ringed the Capitol building!

Sigh.

As a nation and a society, we have nowhere to go but up. I pray we make it.

I Can Break the Vaccine Logjam!

 After hearing Trump's phone call to Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger plainly seeking to badger/guilt/manipulate Raffensperger into cooking the books of the 2020 election in Trump's favor, I have had it.

I ask you: has there ever been a more heinous, more corrupt jackal in public office? And is it asking too much that he is soon to receive the Benito Mussolini treatment not too long after leaving office, if not before?

Sadly, it seems my New Year's Eve wish has one exception: Donald J. Trump. But I'm forgiving his zombies—for the most part. Read on...

Amazing, isn't it? But yeah, I can. Here's the deal: if you voted for Donald Trump in the 2020 presidential election, you go to the end of the line.

By casting your vote for Crazy Don, you have endorsed this medical cataclysm which has placed tens of millions of lives at risk, and I see no reason whatsoever why you should benefit alongside those who sought order over chaos; leadership over sedition and fraud.

It is you who swallowed President Petulant's every word and obeyed his every wish. It is you who denied the existence of COVID-19 and belittled those who believed differently. It is you who stridently protested common-sense public health measures meant to minimize the spread of COVID-19 and fought tooth and nail to have them overturned.

(In addition to ignoring them.)

It is you who, like your president, whined and cried without end. It is you who raised the game of victimhood to new heights, claiming that wearing a cloth mask over your nose and mouth amounted to tyranny.

It is you who, like your president, enabled the spread of COVID-19 via your teenaged sense of immortality and now want to partake in a cure.

To which I politely respond “Fuck you.”

It is entirely unsurprising that we fell short of the twenty million vaccinations promised by Vice-President Pence. It is entirely unsurprising that the distribution lags far behind what was promised.

We have only to look at the captain of the ship.

To paraphrase your local stock broker, this is a case where past performance is indicative of future results. Unless it benefited the one-percent and their businesses, is there anything Donald J. Trump didn't fuck up?

Like the trolls you are, you need to follow your leader. This isn't the time to discover your sense of free will and think for yourself. There is no virus, remember? Hence no need for inoculation.

I'd like you to show us snowflakes one more time how indomitable you are. I'd like you to show us your fiery defiance in the face of, well, everything. You can't talk the talk if you won't walk the walk.

C'mon—just one more show. Isn't it better to risk sickness and even death as a true blue Trumper than to live in shame as a RINO?

I thought so.