Pushin for the playoffs.

I started laughing my ass off yesterday when I heard that the Cubs had won 14 in a row. I'm not sure why, there is reason to believe that they're not a laughing matter these days. But still, how can you contain your smile when this is happening?

Remembering back to the days in Black and Gold in Columbia, it would be right about now that the Cubbie hats would start appearing by the dozen in every classroom. Only to be shamefully discarded to the back of the closet come "let-down" October.

True, Chicago will be tough to catch at this point. But with the Cardinals in the mix of the Wild Card show and three former aces looking to get comfy amidst our rotation within the coming months, I still have good feelings about this team finding its way into the postseason.

We need some hard bonding glue while Pujols is riding pine. But if we can keep it together for a while, Tony will get his backup platoon ready to ride. And we all know what happens when 83 win Cardinal teams get into the playoffs...

We pound the lead out of the Mets.

Still fightin'

Ahhhhh, I finally got out of that damn state. Jamie wasn't lying when he posted my headline, I was certainly getting surly and looking for a Yankee to fight. And just as I thought I was homefree, just when I thought I was safe...I got on the plane and for our "viewing pleasure" United Airlines was nice enough to allow us to watch a televised program at no fee due to a delay in our flight. Um, the televised program was an interview with Derek Jeter on some local television station. It was Jeter and the guy interviewing him and about 513 sappy, sorry, good-for-nothing Yankee fans who idol Jeter as if they get to go to his skyrise in the Bronx when their time comes. Needless to say, I was pretty frustrated.

Then, I get to my hotel in Denver for the night and catch Sportscenter highlights for the first time this summer. And what do I see? Carlos Zambrano beating the hell out of a water cooler. Apparently this guy has won eight straight and has just been throwing lights out, then he gets rocked one game and he acts like a immature, irresponsible child on national television. Folks, that kind of behavior is not cool. And if you're a high school athlete, please realize that professionals that handle themselves this way are not really professionals. They're just rich ignorant assholes who are good at what they do, and, as a nation, we spoil them.

If you get your ass handed to you out there, tip your hat and go get 'em next time.

I'm out. I bet it's hot in the midwest, isn't it?

This Damn Yankee State

Well, I'm porched up in Jersey in a studio high rise staring across the Hudson at the Big Apple. In town for a wedding, the plan was to swing up the Bronx last night and catch my favorite ballers Scotty Ballgame and David Eckstein stick it to the damn Yankees.

But it all hit the fan when Coach decided to throw Joba. And everybody in New York quit their jobs and just had to get a ticket to see this cat throw 62 pitches and allow four runs in less than three frames. Tickets jumped from $25 to $300 overnight and, just as quickly, my chances of seeing a game in the "House that Ruth Built" went up in smoke.

So instead, I sat in Connolly's, an Irish pub in Manhattan, and drank one $10 12-ounce bottle of Budweiser and said "enough's enough." I saw Rolen bring one in, threw my ten spot on the bartop, screamed "Go Cardinals" and got the hell out of there.

More than anything else, I wanted to go to Yankee stadium to see what all the hoopla was about with Yankee fans claiming to be the best in the world. It seemed to me, just from being in the city last night, they kind of just like to wear Mickey Mantle jerseys and cheer for the Yanks because its "cool, man." Because if you're going to spend $10 on a bottle of beer in Manhattan you better be cheering hard for somebody while you're drinking it. You heard me?

This place is weird, I'm not the first to say it. I'm a lot more comfortable walking around Busch Stadium where I know that a guy with a Carpenter jersey isn't going to beat the hell out of a guy with a Pujols get-up. I saw Mantle and Ruth come to near blows on the PATH train back to Jersey last night. I'm sure it was an ego thing. This town simply isn't big enough for the both of them, one of them needs to get punched and recognize he's just here for a short stay in the other's town.

Have you ever seen Musial and Dean in a fist fight below the arch? Doubtful.

Let's all go to Chicago and fight the Cub fans. Who's in?