Wednesday, June 28, 2006

the cubs game: a different perspective

so the cubs game last night.... in one word? disappointing.
here's why... in a not so concise manner.

cubs vs. brewers, 06.27.06.
a play in three acts.
from the viewpoint of the two 29 year old women that sat in section 240, row 11, seats 13-14.

the cast:
woman 1 (the complainer)
woman 2 (the listener)
scott (the cubs fan in section 240, row 12, seat 14)

act 1, scene 1:
innings 1 through top of 5. brewers go up 3-0 on pretty standard effort from the cubs. w1 and w2 are engaged in the same conversation throughout, over the course of 2 beers each and a combined 3 glances to the field and/or scoreboard. cubs are obviously losing because of the atmosphere of the crowd.

w1: ...and i'm just floored... i mean i'm devastated, you know? so i finally told him that i love him more than he loves me... and i'm like, 'you're just in love with love, you know? you don't want to meet my dad, do you? you don't care like i care...?!'
w2: no....
w1: yes! and so i'm telling him all this, and it's like he's not even listening. so i don't talk to him for like two days, and he calls me up one night, and we get talking, and i finally ask him to come over for dinner and to talk about 'us'...

act 1, scene 2:
bottom of 5th. zambrano homers (2) on a two run fly to right field stands. incredibly, henry blanco was on base, and the cubs get 2 back. cubs fans are on their feet. w1 and w2 stay seated, engrossed in discussion about evil boyfriend over beer number 3. it's obvious to background cubs fans that as the only player that cares about anything, zambrano should be in the line-up every game... maybe in left field? 2nd base? as D.Z. (designated zambrano)?

w1: ...and it just kills me to say this but we talked and i felt better about things until the next day when i called him twice and left him an email and he never got back to me.
w2: oh... honey, it's just not worth it.
w1: i know! but then he finally did call a couple days later, you know after i've just gone through 48 hours of suffering... but we talk again, and end up going out last friday night to this party...

act 2, scene 1:
innings 6-7 jacque jones, surprisingly, doubles (14) on a fly ball to center field. ronny cedeno scores. tie game, 3-3. w1 and w2 leave their seats for an apparent bathroom break and maybe some food. they will not return for 2 1/2 innings... just before the 9th. brewers immediately get one back as jeff cirillo singles on a line drive to right field and damian miller (ex-cub of course) scores. 4-3 brewers.

w1: (on the way down the steps) it's just unbelievable because i know i shouldn't even bother, but i can't help it...
w2: (following w1) um-hmm...

act 2, scene 2:
cubbies bring new and, naturally, false hope to the game by having what seems to resemble a major league 8th inning. aramis ramirez homers (14) to center field. todd walker later singles to left field, scoring pinch runner matt murton. 5-4 cubs.

scott: alright!

act 3, scene 1:
w1 and w2 return before the brewers' 9th, still deep in conversation about evil boyfrield. after sitting with their new pretzels and beers number 5 or maybe 6, they resume conversation.

w1: ... so i just figure, 'tonight, just one last time, i might as well get *blanked* because, i dunno, i should just go out with a bang you know!!
w2: ha ha ha.... nice! hey, people are excited... what's the score?
w1: i don't know. what inning is it?
w2: ... it's tied! yay! no wait...
w1: how can you tell?
w2: up on that thingy. they've got the score up there by innings i think.
w1: one.. two.. three... four... they have four scores, right?
w2: yeah, four to...

this interaction goes on for several minutes. brewers make the cubs and their respective (but not very respectful) fans look like complete idiots. gabe gross hits a sacrifice bunt. corey koskie scores. throwing error by pitcher ryan dempster. corey hart reaches on fielding error by shortstop ronny cedeno. damian miller scores. rickie weeks hits a sacrifice fly to center field. gabe gross scores. 8-5 brewers. w1 and w2 leave, maybe after figuring out the score, maybe not.

scott: (sigh).

the end.


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