100 Years and Counting

I Love You. I really do. I always hold out hope that we'll be able to celebrate a great life together. I understand that not all times will be good. All relationships have their ups and downs. However this is really starting to get out of hand. I have been by your side for the better part of 25 years. And that's saying a mouthful considering that I'm only 30 years old. But you were my first love. When I was first introduced to you, I didn't know that this would be a life long relationship. But you brought so much joy to my life back then that its not really surprising. We spent the entire summer together. Everyday! On those occasions when you weren't in Chicago, you always made sure that I could see you and know how you were doing. I know that once October hit, you had other things to do. But you always came back in February. And boy did I look forward to February!

Since I've gotten older, its been one heartache after another. Just when I think we're gonna finally do this, something unexpected stands in the way. I'll be honest, I've contemplated giving my heart, and loyalty to another. But I wouldn't respect myself if I did. Too often I've seen others around me divide their loyalties. Selling themselves for a moment of pleasure. And while I saw them, and wondered how great it would be to experience that level of jubilation, I thought about you, and how much more it will mean to me to stick by your side and be there on your day of success. To know that I've poured so much of myself into this, I wouldn't feel vindicated unless it was you and I together, side by side on that day of success.

But my soul is getting weak. The setbacks are becoming ever excruciating. I'm not so selfish as to think that its all you. What can I do to get us to that next level? Tell me, I promise that I would do it. 100%. That's how much you mean to me. That's how much this relationship means to me. That's how much our success means to me. I know that it seems weird that I've invested so much into this. Please don't consider me weird, there are many more people that do much weirder things for the people they love.

Unfortunately my father warned me that you would break my heart. The love of his life did the same thing to him when he was younger. And that jaded him permanently. To the point that anytime your name is brought up, he can't do anything but shake his head, and question why I continue to deal with you. There's some laughter on his part, but mostly bewilderment at my undying devotion to you. But as I see it, that's what makes me different from him. I stick with things, for better or worse. I obviously didn't learn it from him, but it is a great quality none the less.

In closing I just want to say that I'm reaching a breaking point with you. I can't take much more of this. We have to make a change soon. Either a change for the better, or a clean break. One way or the other, we need to do what's best for the each of us. I Love You, and that will never change.

Forever Yours,
Andreas



What you have just read is my open letter to my beloved Chicago Cubs. For a 25th straight season, since I've been a fan, the Cubs failed to win the Major League Baseball championship. Now that's not a long time by the standards of some teams. Hell, the city of Cleveland hasn't celebrated a championship of any kind since the 1964 Cleveland Browns won. Though I've only been a fan for 25 years, the Cubs haven't just won a championship since 1908. So this year's loss makes it an even 100 years since the Cubs have last won. Now that's absolutely terrible.




The hardest part is that this year seemed so promising. The Cubs finished the season at 97-65, first place in the central division. There were some rough patches during the season, but the Cubs actually finished up the season strong. They opened the playoffs against the Los Angeles Dodgers, a team that I have hated since I lived in L.A. in the 90's. So I actually looked forward to the Cubs playing them, and beating them, and moving on. Much to my dismay, the Cubs laid a huge egg. Swept by the Dodgers. Boy did that hurt.



And so I'm putting my team on notice. I mean, its been an entire century since the Cubs have won a championship. I can't take this much more. The ups and the downs are definitely taking a huge toll on me. After the Cubs late season collapse of 1969, my then 11 year old father, gave up on the Cubs. I don't want to follow that path, but I'm running out of patience. This is not a threat, but I do have more than one team that I can support in Chicago. I like the White Sox, and they are from the southside of Chicago. My neck of the woods. It wouldn't take much for me to support them. I mean, nothing but selling my soul to the Devil as I would see it. But I've had enough with the Cubs. I'm running out of years to give them. I believe that I'll live to at least 75, but at the rate they're going, I still won't see a championship. I don't want to be a fair-weather fan, but its rained so much that I'd be a fool to stick around. And given what White Sox fans are known for, I don't want to commit myself to them, but I gotta do what I gotta do. So I'm putting the Cubs on notice. You don't have much longer. Until then.

-DrizaDre-

When in Rome... Don't eat Italian!

Someone I used to know would always ask when we went to a good Chinese restaurant, " I wonder if the Chinese food in China is better than it is over here"? Well those thoughts cross our minds about a lot of things. Are the Playstations in Japan better? Is the Guinness in Ireland tastier? Well for me, one of my questions was always "are the Bratwursts better in Milwauke"? Well people, lets just say that if Milwaukee's bratwurst is any indication, I won't be booking any flights to Dublin or Tokyo anytime soon.

Here's a little background information.

I am a huge baseball fan. (Chicago Cubs Baby! Don't laugh, we're just on that 100 year rebuilding plan). And whenever I get a chance, I like to hit a game at a new ballpark. And when I go, I require 3 things. First, I have to check out the stadium's architecture. Second, I gotta check out a brew, ok, maybe 2. And third, I need a bratwurst.

So imagine my excitement that I had the opportunity to hit Milwaukee's Miller Park! As Homer would say, hmmmmmm, bratwurst! I mean, come on. These are the people who have a race in which grown adults (probably who have had too much Miller) run around in costumes that represent a hot dog, an italian sausage, a polish sausage, a chorizo that's not very politically correct, and of course my beloved bratwurst.

So its the top of the 4th inning. After imbibing a couple cocktails, I decided I'd hit the concession stand and grab my brat. First problem, the concession line was entirely too long. It literally took me an inning and a half to get to the front of the line. And upon my arrival to the front of the line, I ordered a bratwurst, and a Large Miller High Life.

What happened next could only be described as blasphemous in certain circles. The man handed me a foil wrapped bratwurst in a bun. Already cooked and sitting! Now I know some of you are probably saying "so what, take the brat, and go on ahead with your long head". (As my grandfather would say). Well to those people, stop reading right now! I'm serious, your attention is no longer required. For the rest of you who know what good eating is, I'm sorry but this story only gets more grotesque.

So I take this piece of crap bratwurst, and open the foil. I had to actually view this thing. See to me, a true bratwurst comes off the grill, not out a bun warmer. This man handed me a plain bratwurst and bun. I proceeded to ask him, "where are the onions and peppers"? He says, "we have onions over there". Now this was another faux paux. The onions are over there? No the onions should be over here. Along with the peppers. On the goddamn grill with the Bratwurst!
Instead I settled for raw onions on this warmed over bratwurst. I had half a mind to take the bratwurst, onions and all, and the lukewarm Miller High Life and start a food fight with the members of my friendly ballpark concession stand. However, since I didn't have bail money, I instead decided to put it in a blog. (Hell, this is the 21st century, why not act civilized).

So here's what I say to you Milwaukee. I know the Brewers suck. And yes, the main reasons we know Wisconsin even exists is because everyone loves cheese, and some sorry excuse for a football team keeps showing up at Soldier Field with these ridiculously obscene green and gold uniforms. But there is no excuse for what you served me at your ballpark. Take a lesson from your tailgaters. We passed good grills on the way into the Park. Their Brats made your oven warmed brats look about as appealing as Vienna sausages. (Real short)!

So in closing to all you beer swigging, bratwurst loving baseball fans such as myself, avoid Miller Park. Stick to places like Wrigley Field. We know how to take care of you. And besides, at least you'll be watching a winning team. Well, this season anyway.

Legal Disclaimer - Reading this blog does not entitle you to watching a baseball game with any predetermined outcome. The possibility of a Cubs victory can be subject to but not limited to one or more of the following: the presence of black cats, a billygoat that may be denied park entry, nerdy looking fans that may reach for a foul ball, pole shift, alien invasion, spontaneous combustion, terrorist attacks, Hillary Clinton, global warming, or anything else that the sadistic Baseball Gods can throw at the Chicago Cubs.

GO CUBS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

--drizadre