101 Is Not Just a Highway In California Anymore

Over a month and a half has passed since the Cubs quest for a World Series title in their 100th year went down in flames like a California wildfire. As the team meekly succumbed to the Los Angeles Dodgers in the NLDS, Cub fans were not so docile in their reaction to the team's demise.

In years past, cold brews, hot babes, and playing baseball in sunshine were enough to tame the most hardened fans. But that changed a few years back when the Cubs were five outs from the World Series in 2003, and then the hand of the infamous Bartman reached out like the hand of God, snatching away the ball and the dream of the most starved fans in sports, Cub fans, of finally playing in and winning the World Series.

Dusty Baker was in charge of the reins at the time, in his first year, and he took the team beyond everyone's expectations at the beginning of the year. But he was also his own worst enemy. He came in and convinced the fans that they should expect a winner. Just being lucky enough to get a ticket to the game and maybe a phone number was no longer enough. Now the team was supposed to win.

Dusty lasted three more years and he never led the team to the playoffs again. They came close in 2004, but bombed during the last week of the season. It was definitely the best team he had, but they had more injuries that year than a M.A.S.H. unit, if you want to make excuses. The last two years of his contract he was stuck with lackluster rosters that didn't have much of a chance of winning, yet he was practically tar and feathered and ridden out of town on a rail as his teams failed and the Cubs drought was closing in on the century mark.

Then the supposed savior was brought in, the legendary Lou Piniella. Piniella was the guy that wasn't going to accept the losing and would do whatever was necessary, whether it was throwing bases, having spittle run down his uniform as he went nose to nose with an umpire, or give one of his players a well-deserved kick in the behind.

I guess that was the old Lou Piniella. We got the OLD Lou Piniella as the manager of this team and he doesn't do that anymore. Sure, he put on a phony act with an umpire his first year in 2007, the day after Carlos Zambrano used Michael Barrett as a punching bag, first in the dugout and later in the clubhouse. And it worked. The team came alive and suddenly everyone thought it was gonna happen. It didn't.

The Arizona Diamondbacks swept the Cubs in three games as Piniella pulled Carlos Zambrano after six innings so he could save him for Game 4. Unfortunately, I guess the senile Lou Piniella didn't realize it was a best of five series and you have to win a game to get there. So the Cubs went home and their long-suffering fans were left to contemplate the 100 year anniversary of their last championship in 1908.

Fortunately the 2008 Cubs were picked by just about everyone to win their division and make it to the series. Last year was just a warm-up. This team was built to win, or so we thought. Right from the start they jumped out like they meant business, and nothing was going to stop them from achieving the goal that had eluded them for so long. They led for most of the season, and they were resting players the last week to get ready for the playoffs.

This is the year! At least that was the rant from Cub radio announcer Ron Santo whenever an inning ended during the broadcast. And it sure seemed like it. The team was healthy going into the playoffs. They added a top of the rotation starter in Rich Harden. What happened last year was an aberration and would never happen again.

So why was I crying on October 4 when a wonderful season came to an abrupt end. (I wasn't really crying, but it sounds more dramatic.) I was pissed though, and not just because the team lost. It was how they lost.

I was on vacation in New York and watched the first game at the ESPN Zone right in the heart of Times Square. Unfortunately, I had a squirrley Dodger fan sitting in front of me who kept standing up every time he thought the Dodgers were doing something. I let him know I didn't appreciate it and that I can't see when he stands up in front of me. Besides, it's not like we were at the game. That would have been acceptable.

I was hoping to get back at him with a Cubs series victory, even though I would never see him again. But instead, I had to suffer through a life-less team effort as they went down without a fight. Hell, I had more fight than the Cubs. If I were a few years younger, that Dodger fan would have been beat even if his team wasn't. (I'm just kidding, but don't think the thought didn't cross my mind. Losing for so many years gets to you after awhile.)

Lou Piniella recently received the Manager of the Year award for the job he did guiding the team to the playoffs, the first time that's happened two years in a row in a hundred years. (We're not just bad enough that we don't win in the playoffs; we hardly ever make it.) Unfortunately the voting takes place before the playoffs. But when you have a team that everyone predicts to win and they do, should you win the award? Shouldn't it go to a manager that exceeds expectations, not just meets it?

The funny thing is Cub pitcher Ryan Dempster, who recently signed a four-year extension, came out and said the team wasn't prepared and didn't have a sense of urgency. He thought the Dodgers were more prepared for the series than the Cubs. Piniella denied that was the case and said he prepared the team just like he did during the regular season.

That was the problem. This isn't the regular season. It's three and out. For two years in a row, sweet Lou hasn't had a sense of urgency.

Maybe that's why he put Kosuke Fukedome in the two hole in Game 1, even though he hadn't been hitting for almost four months. He finally started benching him in September, after giving him a lot longer leash than the normally inpatient Piniella is known for. He then started him the next game too, although in the eighth spot that game.

Is the short division series the time to see if a guy is going to start to hit? I think Dempster was right about the team not having a sense of urgency. If the manager doesn't, why should the players?

Of course Fukedome failed miserably, as Piniella did as a manager. The last straw was when he left him in to bat in the 7th inning when the Cubs had their last gasp of breath. Trailing 7-0 starting the inning, they put together a couple of doubles and a single with two outs, cutting the lead to 7-1 and bringing Fukedome up to the plate. Torre went to the mound to make a pitching change, and my TV went to a commercial break. I was sure I wouldn't see Fukedome at the plate when they came back.

Boy was I wrong! Fukedome grounded meekly to short, and that was it for the Cubs. I would have had Zambrano pinch hit for him for God's sake. He's a switch-hitter and a much better hitter. Anyone but Fukedome!

If I were the general manager, I would have fired him right there, even though that same GM extended him before the playoffs even started. What, you couldn't wait to see how the team did in the playoffs? They didn't even compete for the second year in a row and he gets an extension. No wonder this organization never wins.

In a recent interview, Piniella came out and blamed the media for putting too much pressure on the team with the 100 year theme. They were trying too hard. But the good news is he thinks that there will be less pressure on them this year. I guess 101's not quite as romantic a number as 100.

2009 will be no different than 2008 or any other year in the last hundred because the Cubs will not win the World Series. Not as long as sweet Lou is still here. Did I mention he has brought only one team to a title, and that was the 1990 Reds? He has never even taken another team to the World Series and has a 23-27 record as a manager in the playoffs, so why is he the Cubs savior?

Sweet Lou is starting to smell like a rotten fish, and if I were in charge, I'd throw him back in the water.

Dust