Okay, as anyone who's bothered to pay attention to my online ramblings can attest, I don't always live up to my nickname. In fact, as the years have passed I've found myself, sadly, taking my "kool-aide" in increasingly smaller doses.
And so imagine my surprise yesterday when I found myself passionately (and not always accurately) defending the Cubs and their record to my increasingly impressionable nieces and nephew. Their father, you see, is a lifelong Sox fan and, up until recently, has been content to keep any criticisms of our "Boys in Blue" to himself. As cynical as I've become over the years, there was something about my six year old nephew telling me that the Cubs always lose...the Cubs are losers....they aren't any good...that got the kool-aide flowing again. And so, while babysitting them yesterday they were forced to watch a steady diet of Cubs' videotapes...dvd's, etc., (all edited, of course, to make the Cubs look exactly like the exciting, winning franchise that I imagined them to be as an equally impressionable seven year old in the early 70's).
Along the way (and against my better judgment), I found myself getting excited about Opening Day. Sure, I still have HUGE problems with the corner outfield...Byrd as a #3 hitter...the gigantic sinkhole that is 2nd base...but, on the other hand, I actually LIKE our pitching...Wood should bolster the bullpen...Castro looks like the goods and Soto's already exceeded my expectations (Rick Wilkins be DAMNED!). And if Pena can rebound from the broken foot...maybe this really WILL BE THE YEAR!1
And so, thanks to a White Sox fan, hope has, at least momentarily, been restored which, I suppose, is evidence enough that, in nature, everything really DOES have a purpose.