Cubby-Blue

Our Cubs game with Larry O'Brien

I get lots of correspondence thru emails and stuff about this blog, and a couple weeks ago I got one thru Facebook that started out like this: "Hello Tim. My name is Larry O'Brien. I'm Ted Lilly's agent. I love your work..."

Wow.

That got my full attention.

I googled him, and there he was.

He suggested we go to a game, told me I could invite someone as well.

I called Sutter.

Jump to 6:40, 25 minutes before the start of the Washington game last Tuesday, and I'm having a beer with Sutter and sneaking a photo of Tim Stoddard's enormous calves.

When I googled Larry, I saw a photo of a guy in a suit, and...what do I know about agents?

"Jerry McGuire", Scott Boras - I have no idea what to expect, but for the first time this year I'm wearing shoes to a Cub game.

We're to meet him at 6:45 in front of ticket window #10.

We head over and...this bearded guy in a Hawaiian shirt decorated with vintage Woodys, shorts, flip flops and a Titleist hat says, "Right on time."

He shook hands with us, and I immediately knew he was... one of us.

He had asked for some artwork for himself and for Ted (unless he didn't like it, Ted Lilly has my art on his walls! Kinda giddy about that) which I left in my car.

Had to go get it.

So when I finally got to the seats Larry introduced me everybody including his wife Chris, friend Mary, neice Shelley, and Tasha Lilly (Ted's wife).

They were all really nice, normal baseball fans just watchin' a game.

Larry is a story teller, and even though the game kinda sucked, we had a blast.

Larry started off his agent thing by representing his brother Pete, who was kind of a stud 1st baseman.

He met Ted when Ted was in the minors, before Ted was Ted.

They became semi-friends, and began their partnership when Ted called and asked if Larry could do his taxes.

When Ted signed his big contract with the Cubs, it started with Larry getting a phone call from Lou.

It progressed to Larry talking to Jim Hendry on the phone and Jim finally saying something like, "Hey, I can't talk any more. They're putting these EKG things on me."

So it was Larry that Jim was talking to when Jim was on that hospital bed...

Anyway, I guess I had a slick, "all about the money" idea about what a professional sports agent was, and I was soooo wrong.

Just from the way he talked about him now, you can tell that Larry and Ted are really just...buddies.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, a busted bat went flying into the stands in front of us a couple sections over.

Sutter said, "That's pretty close to the DDB (ad agency) seats."

Everyone was standing, trying to get a look, blocking my view.

I turned to watch the game again when suddenly everyone applauded - you know how they do that when somebody gets nailed, survive, and then stand up?

So I looked back and there's Todd Nonken, a guy I work with, holding his head and walking out.

Maybe you saw the photo in the Trib:

That's him in the white shirt there.

He told me later he had his head turned, talking, and it just came out of nowhere.

9 staples in his head, a cut throat, a stitch in the ear, and a massive headache.

That's pretty lucky, actually.

When I sit in those seats and somebody comes up to bat... you're very close and especially if a lefty's up you just have to watch for the liner foul ball.

Or, a giant shard of sharpened hardwood.

He took no small amount of guff at work the next day.

Back at the game, Larry told us a bunch of stories, all of 'em cracked us up.

He knows a ton of baseball people, he's golf buddies with 'em.

But he spoke mostly about Ted and his competitiveness.

"You could tell Ted had "it" because he had it here."

Larry pointed to his heart.

That about sums Ted up, I'd say.

In the mean time, the Cubs got pasted.

Hey Larry, can you find us more Ted Lilly's please?

Okay, Jake Fox gets his first ever grandy slammer and resulting curtain call.

That's gotta be pretty awesome for a guy out of Triple A.

The Cubs beat a mirage of a major league team, the Mets 11-4.

Sweepage today?

Go Cubs.

Finger Pointing Time For The Cubs. Just The Worst.

It's what happens when all hope has been dashed: finger pointing.

In '03, a whole city pointed their finger at one man who tried to catch a foul ball and hung the fault of failure around his neck.

And I just hate the process.

If we were talking about an engine, you'd point at a spark plug or maybe the alternator or something, switch it out and see if that fixed it.

But when you're talking about human beings, it gets wrapped up in some serious emotion.

I don't look at a spark plug and think about all wonderful miles it helped me drive.

But when it comes to Jim Hendry, I can't help but think that under his guidance I've seen some of the best Cubs baseball I've ever seen in my life.

The Cubs have moved into another class of team under Hendry.

Everybody's pointing at him right now, and all for good reason.

But I'm not so sure chucking him is the right answer, just the easiest.

I read that Lou Piniella wants us to point to him.

"You want to blame me, take your shots."

See?

It's excruciating.

But the worst finger pointing right now is being done by Milton Bradley.

He's pointing at me, the Cub Fan, and vaguely hinting at racism as the reason for the "hatred" he feels.

Man, that sure gets my attention, but I'm not gonna fall for it.

Milton can point anywhere he wants, it won't change the fact that he's a complete and absolute failure as a Chicago Cub.

He's so childish and simple.

Like a kid riding his bike home from school carrying a bad report card who wrecks on purpose in the hope that the resulting bloody knee will divert his parent's attention away from his grades. 

(I tried that by the way - it doesn't work.)

Anyway, you can call me a nostalgic twit for my feelings about Hendry and Lou - I'm just saying there's a gray area for me.

I know everybody, including me, wants change and it's surely gonna happen with the new ownership.

Because in this case one thing is for sure: the shit rolls uphill.

Now, for the more important stuff.

I nailed a nice bass on my second cast yesterday.

Later I met a guy who is buddies with the owner (or one of the owners) of Rollie and Helen's Musky Shop.

That place is the mecca for advice and information and hardware for all things musky.

Anyway, if the stars align, I'll get to go fishing ("musky hunting") with them.

Man, that'd be like playing catch with Aramis Ramirez.

Cub Fans, you can let go now.

I should be packing.

See, I"m on vacation.

That's what you're supposed to do, right?

Pack?

Instead, tonight I went to the game, and while I watched the worst Cub performance of the year, something happened that ended up being strangely uplifting.

I realized I can... let go.

The sun's gonna come up tomorrow.

The mail will arrive, the tomatoes will still try to grow, and best of all: I can get in my car and drive to a cabin up in the Great North Woods and continue my battle with the Musky that made me squeal like a little girl 3 years ago.

Here's how the day started...

It was as pretty a morning as you could ever hope for.

The sun shot thru a hole and spot-lit my neighbor's plants.

It was breathtaking, and I hadn't even had coffee yet.

Then, I went to work and worked.

At 5 something, I got in my car and drove up to Wrigley Field.

Lots of people came to this, the worst game of the year.

Then I met Sutter at "Mike Morgan's", where we had a beer next to ex-Cub Tim Stoddard.

He's a huge man...

These are just his calves. 

Holy Mother of God!

Compare his to the calves around him!

Sutter said, "His calves are as big as my chest."

He's right.

When we got inside, there was Big Z.

He looked ready to reclaim his Ace status.

My expectations were this: THE CUBS WILL KICK SOME MAJOR WASHINGTON ASS TONIGHT.

It was absolutely gorgeous out.

Just the perfect night to, once again, give in to hope.

But soon, in a scene reminiscent of the last game of the 2003 Cubs season, Carlos Zambrano hit one out.

Just like Kerry Wood did, the day he gamely tried to carry a whole city on his back, but couldn't quite do it.

Remember?

In both instances, you knew something was all wrong.

Pretty soon, the Nats were up about a hundred to three.

And this is where I started to...give in.

Then Lou came in to take out Zambrano.

I have no explanation for this photo.

You shoot blindly with a digital camera, who knows what it captures?

Maybe this season really has given people a rash.

But here's what I do know:

The Washington Nationals came to Wrigley Field to play a game that was so absolutely necessary for our Cubs to win you could...

Well, you could hang a season on it.

And now, the Cubs are 9 games behind St. Louis.

You can talk to one thousand people on the streets of Chicago and maybe find one more fan who has more hope and faith than I do.

But I give.

When I was walking out of the stadium, there were all these big screen tvs hanging everywhere, and although this photo is so bad you can't tell - the tvs all had a shot of a camera pointed at the black chair with the microphone in the small room in which Lou Piniella would soon be talking about the game.

In advertising, this is called the "HOW COME" room.

As in, "HOW COME you pinch hit that twit Aaron Miles?"

Anyway, walking out, that room was empty, but it reminded me of a story...

When I was in 6th grade, there was this kid in my class.

Dark hair, jeans - a regular kid - lets say his name was "Richard".

I sat next to him, sort of in the back row.

One day, after we'd all been sitting in class for a half hour, Richard suddenly jumped up from his seat.

We all looked at him like, what the hell, dude?

"SOMEBODY PEED IN MY CHAIR, AND I'VE BEEN SITTING IN IT THE WHOLE CLASS!" he yelled.

And then he ran out of the room.

What did he just say?

I looked at his chair and sure enough, there was golden liquid in his seat.

We all looked at each other, us students, and knew immediately what had happened.

The teacher, after regaining her composure, said something like this:

"Well class, apparently Richard...had to go to the bathroom. Lets all try and be kind to him when he comes back because obviously he's embarrassed."

Anyway, that came to me when I was looking at those tvs: Lou has had to explain that exact story about a hundred times this summer.

And you know what?

I'm over it.

So the Cubs pissed in the chair in the middle of class in front of everybody.

There's still about a month and a half of nice weather, and for sure I'll head to Wrigley a couple more times - it's still summer.

I'm just... not having anxiety about the Cubs getting in the playoffs any more.

It's kinda nice.

Right now though, I"m gonna go catch a fish.

ps: there's actually more to this game to come I wanna tell you, after I get unpacked and do a couple paintings.

Gimme a day or so.

What's it gonna be, Carlos Zambrano?

Fox Trot: Cubs 3 Dodgers 1.

I hope to see this "Fox Trot" many times in the future, Jake Fox running around the bases having just smoked a ball out of the park.

He went 4 for 4 yesterday against the Dodgers, and brought his home run total to 9.

He's also hitting .305 with 34 RBIs.

That's not bad for a guy who basically joined the Bigs in mid June, playing only part time. 

Along with some of these other kids, he's been a breath of fresh air.

The Cubs beat the Dodgers, finally, 3-1 yesterday with Ryan Dempster looking magnificent and Dodger starter Chad Billingsley looking pretty hittable.

And I'll take each small victory that I can - it was awesome watching Carlos Marmol make Manny look not just human, but even a little spazzy on that last out.

Cubs with the day off today, looking at the back of a Cardinal jersey from 8 games behind.

If you ain't lead dog, the scenery never changes.

Thank you, Sam Fuld.

How about Sam Fuld?

He NEVER took his eyes off the ball.

Wish I could say I saw it as it happened, but work is just really busy.

But when you think about how far the MLB websites have come, it really is amazing: there it is at my fingertips.

Whoops...getting away from Sam.

Of course you hope he's found a place somewhere with the big club by now.

He's pretty much taken advantage of his chances when they've come his way this year, but yesterday was almost out of bounds.

I'm a huge Fuld Fan.

Ted Lilly looked fabulous, but of course there's the bat thing.

Oh those Cub bats wasting all the Cub pitching.

How cruel was it to see Charlie Haegler throwing knuckleballs past the gasping Cubs?

Probably nobody coulda hit that guy.

Oh well, Dodgers two Cubs nothin'.

Last thing though.

Jay Cutler.

I haven't looked forward to a Bear's season this much in years.

Wow.