A Cub Fan Rooting For the White Sox? It’s Out Of Spite.

Who’s excited for the playoffs to get underway?

I guess I am.

I mean I’m a Cub fan, and they’re not in it. But I’m still pulling for the White Sox despite that fact that most White Sox fans don’t want me on their bandwagon. But I’m pulling for the White Sox for a number of reasons.

First of all, I’m from Chicago. I’ve always lived in Chicago and I’ll always love all things Chicago. The White Sox are about as Chicago as they come so therefore I like the White Sox. I don’t really like White Sox fans, and if the Cubs and Sox were both on a sinking ship and one team had to be tossed overboard to save the other, I’d kick the Sox out faster than an old Black Jack McDowell fastball. But the fact is I’d love to see the White Sox win it all because I live in this city.

Second of all, there’s no way I’m rooting for the Yankees. That’s like rooting for the eighth grader that’s picking on the fifth graders. (But man it’s fun to watch those those fifth graders get pissed and give him a good ass whooping.) I can’t really root for the Red Sox, since they won it last year. And I have no draw to the Angels. They’re a good team and fun to watch, but c’mon, the White Sox are from my city.

Third, I’m pulling the Sox just to spite Sox fans. Ha ha, suckers, look at me, a die hard Cub fan rooting for your team. I’ll be wearing my Cubs hat and my Jorge Bell jersey too, ya bastards.

I’ve been to a couple White Sox games this year. I’ve been to more Cub games. But the fact is, I’ve made an appearance at one of the Comiskey Parks or U.S. Cellular Park at least one time every year since I can remember. So why wouldn’t I root for them?

They’re not playing my Cubs. And their pain-in-the-ass fans aren’t who I’m pulling for, I’m pulling for the team. (For the record, I can’t stand a majority of Cub fans either.) Sox fans are saying how they don’t want people jumping on their bandwagon. That’s why its a bandwagon, because it wants to be filled up. Just because this city looks at the Cubs as their number one sons is no reason to be mad at the rest of the world. I’m a Cub fan who remembers when he could take the train to the game in the second inning and get a seat in the front row of the upper deck. Now there’s not even a bandwagon anymore, it’s a freakin’ bandtrain.

The funny thing is, if you get a room and lock together five angry Cub fans and five angry Sox fans and bring up who’s had it rougher in this city, eventually, one, if not all, of those people will be dead. Murdered. But if you mention the Chicago Bears, everyone will be hugging, swigging beer, and sucking down brats before you can even lock the door.

All I’m saying is let’s go Sox. Let’s forget which side of town we live on and win one for Papa Bear George Halas. And maybe next year we can play each other and really see this city get torn to pieces.

Finally, let me just point out that I have some very close friends that are Sox fans. Despite this fact, we get along famously. (We’ll see how long that lasts once they read this.)

Smell of the glove.

I went to the Cub game last night with my family. It started out as a good game. Carlos Zambrano throwing for the Cubbies and Tim Hudson for the Braves. There was a double no-hitter through the first three innings. But then Zambrano gave up a couple runs. The Cubs got ‘em back though, tying the game at two until Kerry Wood gave up a two-run homer to Larry “Chipper” Jones. His second of the game. So the Cubs lost 4-2.

But the best part of the game was the fact that the Cubs were giving away limited edition Greg Maddux 300th win commemorative baseball gloves. I think they were giving away 300 of them. (See the connection? 300 wins for Maddux. 300 gloves. Clever, eh?) As you enter the ballpark an usher hands you a scratch card which tells you if you’re one of the lucky winners or not. I was not. None of us in our family were. We all scratched off losing cards.

BUT…there are a few second chance drawings that take place thoughout the game. Each card has a number on it and between certain innings they’ll have a drawing for another mitt. Unbelievably, my mom won. I can’t say I really remember ever seeing my mom don a baseball mitt, but you woulda thought she was Ozzie Smith once she went to pick up her winnings. It’s a shame a foul ball didn’t come our way, I’m pretty sure she woulda dove over several rows in order to get her new leather on that ball.

So I’m pretty sure she’s gonna make my dad go out and play catch with her now. Put some extra padding in your glove dad, Mom can bring the heat. Not to mention the two-and-half foot break she has on that curve.

I’m pretty sure if she’d come in to pitch in the eighth inning instead of Kerry Wood, Chipper Jones wouldn’t have put one in the seats.