So, eight more shopping days until the end of the world, twelve more shopping days until Christmas, and nineteen more shopping days until the fiscal cliff. Seems to me there’s only one thing to talk about: baseball. Sixty shopping days until pitchers and catchers report.
I know I have mentioned before that I remain a Cubs fan. Feel free to leave a comment to that effect but no fair using the word “pathetic.” It’s just too easy. It occurred to Mrs. Big Guy that we hadn’t yet heard from the guy from whom we purchase our season tickets. Again, no fair using “pathetic” or “idiot” for that matter. Actually we are part of a group that shares a pair of season tickets. Today you need to be a part of the one percent to have your own pair of season tickets for all eighty-one home games. For that matter you need to be a part of the one percent to be able to afford to be over-served at the ballpark.
Anyhow, we have Wednesdays. So all thirteen home Wednesdays from April 10, when nobody much gives a damn, until September 25, when nobody much gives a damn, there we’ll be, cheering on the home team, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine and wishing that if they can’t give us a decent team they could at least give us a Jumbotron out there in left center. Nobody said I was a purist.
To be as kind as possible, you could say that this is the second year of a three or four or five year rebuilding process for the new régime. To be as honest as possible, you could say that this is the one hundred and fifth year of an infinitely long rebuilding process. I am a firm believer that since everyone knows that the Cubs are going nowhere this season, that a great finish would mean coming in maybe third in our division, that the team might want to give out free gifts to fans who attend the games, perhaps a Mini Cooper, especially on Wednesdays. I’m thinking that’s highly unlikely. Perhaps when we get our bill for our share of the season tickets they will be substantially less expensive than last year when the Cubs managed to lose a hundred and one of the hundred sixty-two games in which they participated. Probably not. I hear rebuilding costs money.
So we’ll root, root, root for the home team, enjoy the fresh air and sunshine, content in the fact that while the home team may suck, at least we made it past the fiscal cliff and even the end of the world. Nice.