Ashes

Man, I'm hungry.  I'm not very good at fasting.  I did get to hear a really extraordinary sermon this afternoon, though.  The priest said that "Ash Wednesday seems almost superfluous this year," which is undeniable.  He talked about our special responsibility to do good work in these bad times when the entire world seems to be degenerating into ashes and eventually concluded that we are not, in fact, doomed.  I desperately needed to hear that and cried, of course.

Well, since I am tired, hungry, and incoherent I will save commentary on the amazing Vine Line photoshoot of Z and Fontenot being "very playful" until later.  I hope all of you who observe Lent will have a peaceful and reflective forty days. 

Twenty Things I Learned from the 2008 Chicago Cubs

1.) I don't think I can do this again.  Cubs fandom is, as my mother mentioned frequently this weekend, part of my heritage, and I've dealt with the disappointment that goes along with that many times, not to mention the Rockies last year.  This was the worst loss I can remember, though, because this year's team was (as you may have noticed) my favorite.  I just can't go through another season that ends that way.  

But more than anything, I don't want to feel like this season was all for nothing.  Right now it does feel that way, but I'm trying to remember that this team was special; they taught me some things, and here are a few of them.  All pictures from the Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, or Getty Images via Yahoo!Sports.

2.) Let's begin with shallowness, okay?  I think we all need a little shallowness after last week.  Thus: something about this team really, really makes women want to have their babies:

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

3.) No one in baseball - in fact, no one in the world - has a better autobiography than Carlos Zambrano.

4.)  You totally want to hear the first line of Z's autobiography again, right?  I knew you did:

"The life of Carlos Zambrano is that of the eagle that flies in the middle of a storm and, facing opposing winds, ascends powerfully until it reaches the top of the mountains."

5.) At the beginning of this season, I barely knew who Reed Johnson was.  Now, he's the guy who made The Catch (and did other great defensive and offensive work).  I hope he sticks around with us for a good long time.

6.) We have some good guys on this team:

7.) Ryan Theriot and Mark DeRosa: best manlove ever, seriously.

8.) Cincinnati and Cleveland are TOTALLY different cities.

9.) Puppies.  Also, Geo lounges very handsomely and Theriot and DeRo laugh like frat boys.

10.) Ted Lilly barreling into Yadier Molina like a crazy man (not to mention almost throwing his own no-hitter the day after Z's)?  That guy is intense.  Probably as the result of a lifetime of being named Theodore Roosevelt Lilly.

11.) All of the following, which my friend R. the Red Sox fan laid out for me one night when we were talking about baseball fanfic.  I wrote down everything she said because it was so true:

"I feel like our team [the Red Sox, that is] would be a story like Blade Runner.  Everyone is insane, and some people, like Josh Beckett, are either an alien or a robot.  Tito is the guy trying to save the world and restore justice and order.  Your team is more like a story about a family reunion.  The family is crazy, but not in a bad way.  Geo and Ryan Dempster would be the guys everyone loves, who hold the whole family together.  Then someone would be the crazy uncle who everyone's scared of.  I see about four candidates there.  [She didn't name them.]  Z would be the guy who frightens the children just by being so gigantic, but by the end of the evening the children are all hanging off him going, "Daddy, pony!"  On that note, then there's Mike Fontenot."

12.) Which provides me with an excellent segue:

Mike Fontenot: Amazing Person

This man definitely deserves his own subsection.  Where to begin?

13.) Perhaps with this interview at Bleed Cubbie Blue:

BCB: I read an article last year that said you watch [Theriot's] kids sometimes. Is that true?

Mike: I think that was the "Sports Illustrated" where it said I’m more of a kid than his kids. That he came in there and I was jumping on the bed.

BCB: That’s the one. So, is it true?

Mike: Not necessarily. I wouldn’t say that I was jumping on the bed. I mean, I might have done it once or twice but Houston, his son, was the main one jumping on the bed and I’m like hey watch out and he started getting a little crazy. But I’ll go over there, spend time, hang out. And he just had another one, so they have three now. I’ll go over there and hang out every once in a while.

14.) Zambrano on Fontenot's hitting prowess: "I didn't know short men could hit the ball like that.  He hit the ball like a man, you know?"  Z's right; Fontenot hit .365 in July and almost hit for the cycle on,  if I remember correctly, June 20th.  He went on a similar hot streak last year.

15.) And to what can we attribute this "hitting the ball like a man"?  

"I don't know," Fontenot said. "I've always had decent power my whole life. I guess it's bat speed. Timing a little bit. My grown-man strength."

16.) And of course, the highlight of this particular section has got to be:

The explanation of what's going on in this picture may be more awesome than the picture itself:

"I really can't remember where we got it from," Fontenot said. "It's just driving a nail into the ground, and then we implemented a thing where I jump on his back and he carries me to the promised land."

17.) Ryan Theriot could beat up Mike Fontenot (although he wouldn't), but even the two of them combined couldn't take out Z.  Theriot can also pitch.  He has a 0.00 ERA.

18.) No Cubs pitcher had thrown a no-hitter in 36 years, until this guy came along:

19.)  Every time I thought they were done, they weren't even close.  There was that insane comeback game against the Rockies, there was the game I went to, there was that hideous losing streak in September.  They always came back...

20.) ...except when it counted, right?  It's so hard to believe it's over, even now.  So does the rest of this stuff mean anything at all?  

I think it does.  We'll remember how miserable it was to lose last week, but maybe we'll also remember everything that happened during the rest of the season, and I haven't even covered half of it here.  I think, for me, the last word on this year will always be Geo's home run in the game I went to.  I hope everyone else has a story like that from this year  - that they got to see something amazing, whether on TV or in person.  And I hope that, whenever I think about how much last week hurt, I'll also think about how I got to be at that game, and how it encompassed everything I love about baseball.  I can't help thinking a passage in Mark Helprin's story "Perfection," which is about baseball and God, among other things, where he writes,

[It] was as if God had chosen that moment to make his presence known, and [fans at the game] reacted accordingly in wonder and delight.  For the moment, at least, they felt as if the deepest circles within them had been squared, their ragged doubts knit smooth, and the world were ablaze with the light of perfection.

No words. Well, only a few.

I just threw on some clothes over my pajamas, including my Geo t-shirt, and RAN across the street to the library so I could watch that last inning again and again and again (my laptop is ancient and slow and has trouble with videos.)

Before that, I called my parents and begged them to TiVo any and all post-game coverage. "What did he do? How did he react? What was it like?" I said. "He fell on his knees and gave thanks to the Lord," my mother said, in a tone that implied I should definitely have known that already.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing this. And this is making me tear up. I have no idea what's going to happen during the rest of the season; I'm just glad we got to see what happened tonight.

ETA: to fix photo link, and because Jessie reminded me of the game notes from Yahoo!Sports, which first set me off into fits of weeping:

THE HOME RUN BY CHICAGO LEFT FIELDER ALFONSO SORIANO LED OFF THE GAME.

CHICAGO PITCHER CARLOS ZAMBRANO HAS A NO-HITTER THROUGH SIX INNINGS.

CHICAGO PITCHER CARLOS ZAMBRANO HAS A NO-HITTER THROUGH SEVEN INNINGS.

CHICAGO PITCHER CARLOS ZAMBRANO HAS A NO-HITTER THROUGH EIGHT INNINGS.

CHICAGO PITCHER CARLOS ZAMBRANO HAS A NO-HITTER THROUGH EIGHT AND 1/3 INNINGS.

CHICAGO PITCHER CARLOS ZAMBRANO HAS A NO-HITTER THROUGH EIGHT AND 2/3 INNINGS.

CHICAGO PITCHER CARLOS ZAMBRANO HAS THROWN A NO-HITTER.

Love stuff

"ALLISON," three or four people have said to me this week, "how can you not see that Carlos Marmol looks exactly like Barack Obama?"  "I just don't see it," I said.  But now it's like that optical illusion with the vase and two faces: I can't stop seeing it.  It's all about the ears.

Another issue that concerns me: has anyone else noticed that Ronny Cedeno's uniform always looks too big for him?  It looks like he's wearing pajamas.  Oh, Ronny.

Yesterday in a bookstore I actually took Zambrano's biography and hid it under my Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms so I could pretend to be doing my work.  Here is another highlight from the delightful story of how Z met his wife: before he asked her to be his girlfriend, he went to another friend of theirs and said, and I quote: "Hey!  Go tell Ismari some stuff from me, like love stuff."  "Just like Cyrano," my mother said.  I know I would swoon.

"Zambrano spit out the tooth and stayed in the game"

It may be because I'm tired and overly excited in a little-kid way about my Jesus School orientation, my new neighborhood, and other such things, but this MLB article made me laugh so much.  Let's take a look:

Carlos Zambrano has come out of games because he's thrown too many pitches, because he's given up too many runs, and even because of cramps caused by either too much time on the computer [what?  Did he really say that?  Probably reading this blog.  Hi, Z!] or dehydration.
On Thursday, the problem was a cracked molar.

"I've been out to the mound many times to check pitchers' injuries," Cubs manager Lou Piniella said of a visit in the fifth inning, "but never for a cracked molar. We needed a dentist."

Zambrano spit out the tooth and stayed in the game. He didn't need much help as he almost single-handedly beat the Cincinnati Reds, 3-2. The right-hander hit his fourth home run, and gave up one run over seven innings for the win, ending his three-game winless streak. On Friday, he'll get his tooth fixed.

It was just another "Cubby occurrence," a phenomenon Piniella has discovered in his nearly two years in Chicago.

"That was a first for me and a first for the umpires," Piniella said.

"I think I ate too much gum, and the gum has a lot of sugar," Zambrano said. "I keep telling my daughter not to eat a lot of gum and I'm not a good example. I think my daughter today will be all over me at the house. I accept it."

Then later:

The only other glitch for the Cubs came in the Reds eighth when Joey Votto launched his 15th homer off Carlos Marmol, the first runs off the right-hander in 16 innings since the All-Star break. Marmol did not report any problems with his teeth after the game.

I also love the mention of Z's "several animated conversations with himself" during this game. "He's had conversations before," Lou helpfully explains.  "I'm excluded from those conversations."  I guess it's another Cubby occurrence.

I am a seventh-grader (not literally)

My aunt got me one of these, because of how awesome she is.  I'm planning to hang it over my bed at Jesus School.

That is all.  Oh, except: Z and Fontenot's dugout antics during tonight's game were too much for my heart to take.

Oh, and

Today I was on the phone with my friend R., the Red Sox fan.  She said in this really thoughtful way, "If baseball players were dinosaurs, Big Papi would be a brontosaurus.  But Zambrano would be that thing they discovered - you know, the craziest dinosaur of all.  What is it called?  The Megasaurus?  I think they named it something stupid like that."

I'm not sure what she was thinking of (googling "Megasaurus" will get you hilarious but not-very-useful results), but she is correct: if there is a dinosaur that fits that description, that is what Z would be.  If baseball players were dinosaurs, of course.

You may not need to know this

I thought I was all done fixing fonts and colors and layout stuff, but then a kind person told me how to add pictures.  That was many hours ago.  I'm almost satisfied now, but although I love this rainbow-and-tarp picture very much, of course I really wanted the Z-piggybacking-Fontenot shot to be my header forever.  I just couldn't get the blog title any color that would actually show up well, though.  It kept disappearing against Little Babe Ruth's hat or the lights.  I guess it wasn't meant to be.

Something else happened today, right?  Oh, yes - SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

Little Lord Fontenot

All my reasons for starting this blog, all my reasons for loving the Cubs, all my reasons for believing in the basic goodness of people and God and all that kind of stuff are expressed in the following image:

Yeah.  Oh, yeah.  (Seen in several places, but I think originally from here.)

"Who is this guy? What the heck is going on?"

As you may have noticed from my previous post, I'm back and mostly recovered from the wedding; my college classmates and I all disgraced ourselves pretty thoroughly.  I was welcomed home with some excellent Cubs victories yesterday and Sunday.  

It seems, though, that I missed an amazing moment before the game.  I've been informed that Mike Fontenot and Z have developed a new little routine in which Z pretends to hammer Fontenot into the ground like a spike.  As they were delighting everyone with this yesterday, Fontenot took it a step further and leapt onto Z's back to get a piggyback ride.  Of course I was overjoyed to hear this, but very sad to have missed actually seeing it.

Sensing my distress, my friend Jessie kindly took pity on me and provided me with this article from last year's Tribune.  Here's the most relevant part, with the highlights, well, highlighted:

Fontenot arrived too late to get an All-Star invite, though no second baseman in the league is playing as well as he is right now.

Fontenot hiked his average to .408 with a 3-for-4 afternoon and barely missed becoming the first player this season to reach Sheffield Avenue with his 415-foot, fourth-inning home run off Jason Hirsh.

"I didn't know short men could hit the ball like that," Zambrano said. "He hit the ball like a man, you know?"

Fontenot laughed at Zambrano's comment. Do people underestimate him because of his size?

"I don't know," Fontenot said. "Nobody ever comes up to me and says, 'You can't do this or that.' "

Whenever the 6-foot-5-inch Zambrano high-fives the generously listed 5-8 Fontenot, he puts his hand as high as possible to make Fontenot jump up, like a dog trying to catch a Frisbee.

"That's one of his things," Fontenot said. "I kind of like it. I just slap him on the forearm."

If Fontenot's forearm slap ever becomes as ubiquitous as the fist-bump, you will know it really is the Cubs' year.

"Hats off to Mike Fontenot," DeRosa said. "What he's doing, to come up here and hit .400, is unbelievable. It's not even fathomable, to be honest …

"Every third-base coach has asked me, 'Who is this guy? What the heck is going on?' He's in a zone right now, but when you look at his numbers, he has hit all his life."

I don't really have much to add beyond that.  "Generously listed."  I think that may actually be my favorite part.  Can he really be shorter than 5'8?  I believe the reporter is trying to imply that Fontenot is actually about five feet tall. 

In other news, I've got about three weeks left until I start Jesus School, and OH MAN, THE EXCITEMENT.  

My summer in baseball

Here are the games I've gone to, or will be going to if all goes according to plan, this summer:

1.) White Sox/Rockies on Father's Day.  I mostly went to see the Rockies, who I will probably always have massive affection for even when they play poorly.  They won.  I cheered for them, but only inside my head, because the fans on either side looked very hostile and I didn't want anyone to hit me.  I also didn't wear any of the nine million items of Rockies gear I somehow acquired during my time in Denver, but I'll try to be braver next time.

2.) A minor-league game the last weekend in August (I think): the Schaumburg Flyers vs. a team I believe is called the Gary South Side Railcats, my new favorite team name.  I love minor-league games so much, you guys.  If anyone in the Chicago area wants to go to another one, let me know.  And on an entirely different level of excitement:

3.) Cubs/Brewers, September 18th.  Okay, so my friend and I couldn't get tickets next to each other, but they're in the same general area.  Generally.  Now all we have to do is hope that "Reverend Zambrano," as my game companion called him recently, will be pitching.  But I'd be happy with Teddy Roosevelt Lilly too.  Well, frankly, I'd be happy even if it was Ryne Sandburg's minor-league team with the weird, creepy mascots - I just can't wait to be back at Wrigley.

"I was a little bit shaking"

Well, I would say a good time was had by all last night.  It was really nice to see everybody relatively relaxed and having fun, except for Terry Francona, who I thought might actually start ripping his hair out by the end of the game while Clint Hurdle continued blowing bubbles with his gum.  The dugout kind of looked like a clown car, with about a hundred players in there, and the cheerful inter-team conversations were fun to watch, whatever they may have been about.

I spent a lot of the game praying loudly that Carlos Marmol wouldn't pitch badly, because I feel like that would have destroyed his confidence forever.  I feel like so much is psychological with him; he looks so nervous a lot of the time.  Anyway, I was relieved that he did just fine, and that Z and Dempster put in a good showing.  Z casually lobbing that pitch over Manny Ramirez's head cracked me up, and apparently Rami as well.  Geo and Fukudome didn't hit anything but looked good behind the plate and out in the field, respectively.

The title of this post is a quote from Z about last night; in the same article, Geo says, "On a scale of one to 10, I'd rate it a 50.  It was awesome.  A better stage, you couldn't have."  I guess I can go along with him on that.