Bad Vibes Abound in Friendly Confines

CHICAGO -- I'm actually a hopeful guy at heart, confident we'll one day have an economic recovery, peace on earth and better late-night TV from Jimmy Fallon. But my faith in humankind never has extended to the Cubs. Let me lay this out right here: They won't win another World Series in our lifetime or anyone's else, doomed like pork rinds, Vanilla Ice and the last U.S. president as irreversible national debacles.

On a cold, rainy Tuesday, it was Country Music Night at Wrigley Field, the perfect promotion for the saddest ongoing song in sports. Living here, I am sensing more than a smidgen of burnout in Cubdom, a world-weariness that suggests even the most loyal masochists in sports are sick of pledging their entire beings to a cursed cause -- only to be inevitably bludgeoned every autumn. The last two postseason crashes were particularly cruel, both ending in early three-game sweeps when there were legitimate dreams of breaking a championship rut that has reached 101 years and counting.

Now, there's a queasy feeling that the Cubs are regressing and might not even make the playoffs this season. They've lost eight of their last nine games, with a rain-shortened 6-1 win over the Pirates finally breaking the streak, and they too often strike the appearance of a sluggish, broken-down, overpriced blob that has overstayed its welcome as a National League contender. This begs for a snarling, spitting, belly-bumping tantrum by manager Lou Piniella, who went bonkers in June 2007 and saw the Cubs use it as an emotional turning point in a division-title season. But here's the rub: His wife, Anita, won't let her hubbie throw bases or fits anymore at 65, which not only is the clubhouse's loss but SportsCenter's, too.

Instead, Piniella must sit in the dugout, at times log-like and appearing ready for a nap, and try to figure out why a league-high $135 million product is underachieving. It wouldn't shock me if this is his final season with the Cubs, despite signing an extension through 2011. If he misses the playoffs, I can't imagine him returning to an impossible situation where anything but a World Series title is considered failure.

"There are no excuses here," Piniella said. "This is a team sport, so you count on everybody doing their part -- the manager, the coaches, the players. We've got to respond to this thing and just beat it. Do we have to play .600 or .700 baseball? No. But we've got to keep our head above water, and lately it's been very difficult."

At 22-22, the Cubs are only four games behind Milwaukee and St. Louis, locked in a first-place tie in the NL Central. But the Cardinals, with Albert Pujols as the resident machine and pitching coach Dave Duncan working more miracles with mediocre arms, are poised for a division-title run. The Brewers aren't bad, either, even without C.C. Sabathia. The Cubs are one of baseball's worst offensive teams, ranking 11th in the league in runs and 14th in batting average and total bases, a far cry from the mashers who powered their way to glory. One issue is the deterioration of Derrek Lee, who hit 46 home runs four years ago, into a glorified singles hitter. Another issue is Aramis Ramirez, a dangerous hitter who can't stay healthy. Then there's the maddeningly streaky Alfonso Soriano, who is striking out like a fiend and remains misplaced as a leadoff man. The reigning NL Rookie of the Year, catcher Geovany Soto, is hitting .214 with one homer.

Then there's Milton Bradley, who has brought nothing but poison to the Friendly Confines and threatens to spoil the good vibes that have pervaded Wrigley the last two seasons. Only Bradley, who should be accompanied by a shrink 24/7, still can carry a grudge in late May about an umpiring spat that happened on April 16. Paranoid as ever, he thinks all major league umpires are conspiring against him in defense of their colleague, Larry Vanover, whose ejection of Bradley led to a two-game suspension that was reduced to one game by Major League Baseball. Ancient news? Not to Moody Milton, who believes the umps have been widening their strike zones when he's batting. Oh, that's why he's hitting .196 with five homers and 13 RBI for his $30 million.

"Unfortunately, I think it's a lot of 'Oh, you did this to my colleague,' or 'We're going to get him any time we can. As soon as he gets two strikes, we're going to call whatever and see what he does. Let's try to ruin Milton Bradley,' " Bradley told the Chicago Tribune. "What am I supposed to do? You lead the American League in OPS [in 2008], and two years in the top three in the league in on-base percentage. All of a sudden now, I come to Chicago and I can't see the ball no more? I don't know a strike from a ball?"

Wisely, Pineilla and at least one teammate, Reed Johnson, scolded Bradley and told him to let go of the anger. "There's nothing good that can come out of it," Piniella said of Bradley's obsession. "What we need Milton to do is get to the point where he hits the ball the way he has in the past, and getting on umpires is not a good solution."

Good luck with that. When Bradley's persecution complex is cranked up to 10, everyone else is to blame: fans, media, umps, you name it. At Wrigley, where fans are especially rowdy on summer nights, an expensive player who isn't performing becomes a target. I can just picture a beer cup coming his way in right field and Bradley trying to climb the ivy-covered walls to chase the fan. Last season in Texas, where he hit .321 with 22 homers, he grew so incensed at criticism from an opposing team's analyst while listening in the clubhouse that Bradley headed to the press box and tried to confront the guy. Memo to Milton: At Wrigley, you'd have to climb through the stands to reach the press box, which isn't a good idea.

"Look, he's a much better hitter than what he's shown here early in the season," Piniella said. "You look at his career, and he's hit everywhere he's been, and there's no reason to assume he's not going to hit here. He's just gotten off to a slow start, and I'm sure he's frustrated about it. He's a young man that wants to do well, and he probably is putting a little undue pressure on himself." Know how dismal things have been on the North Side? When 5-foot-11, 175-pound shortstop Ryan Theriot started the season with five homers, a semi-senile local columnist angered the Cubs by suggesting Theriot should be a steroids suspect. This was a reckless way to make a point, even in an attempt to be facetious about the Steroid Era, and what a shame that a rare triumph in an otherwise flimsy offensive season is ridiculed.

There are concerns about the pitching staff, too. Predictably, Rich Harden was on the disabled list before Memorial Day, and Carlos Zambrano just left the DL with a hamstring problem -- to go along with his perpetual psychological quirks. Ryan Dempster won't repeat his brilliance of last season, and while Cubdom believes Jake Peavy rejected a trade to the White Sox last week so he can join the Cubs in late July, not so fast. The team's ownership situation remains muddled, with prospective owner Tom Ricketts not necessarily in position yet to OK a Peavy deal in which the Cubs would inherit $63 million remaining on his contract. As for closer Kevin Gregg, who led the league in blown saves last year, how does he handle the late-season pressure at maniacal Wrigley when he struggled at times with 8,000 in the stands in Miami?

But, hey, at least Mr. T was there on Monday night, in his red, white and blue get-up and bandana, mucking up the seventh-inning song with the worst of them. You thought Denise Richards was bad? Jeff Gordon, Ozzy Osbourne, Tony Romo, Mike Ditka, Dick Vitale? Mr. T brought "PAIN!!!" in the worst way.

Not as much as the Cubs, though. If nothing else, maybe the fans won't have to wait until October to be devastated this time.