A Tragedy In 162 Parts: Cubs vs. Brewers Preview, Friday 4/23, 7:10 CT

To win, or not to win: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous losses,
Or to move arms to pen 'gainst a sea of troubles,
And by so doing end them? To lose: to lose;
No more; and by winning we say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
Cubs fans are heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Will the Cubs be champs? there's the question
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time:
Soriano's hops, Ramirez's slumping,
The hits of despised Card'nals, the Shark's decay,
The insolence of fans and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When Lou himself might his quietus make
With a new bullpen? What could Marmol bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after loss,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
Z may not return; it puzzles pundits
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly out to others that we know not of?
Thus stranded runners do make losers of them all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of strikeouts,
And home runs of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the game of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Dempster! Tonight, with thy fastballs
Bring us a win remember'd.