You Can Put It on the Board...YEEEEESSSS!

Nothing like a sweep against the ole' crosstown rivals, who just happen to be the most pathetic bunch of losers in the majors, to get back on track. Sure, sweeping the light hitting White Sox is an accomplishment on par with finding out that you are HIV positive, but don't actually have AIDS yet ('heeeeyyyy, Magic!'), but I'll take it.

The White Sox are so bad that once we got the lead in each game, even if by only one run, I felt like we had shut the door on them. And being a Cubs fan, that feeling doesn't come around too often.

The best was in the series finale today. There was a 10 minute delay where the umps discussed that insane play on the basepaths that resulted in two Cubs being tagged out, but it was all negated because Juan 'I've More Than Likely Shanked People In My Home Country' Uribe interfered with Angel Pagan on the basepaths. So instead of man on second, two outs, we had the bases loaded, NO outs.

I continued to flip between Len and Bob on WGN, who clearly knew what was going on, and the White Sox bumbling idiots on Comcast, who were up in arms. Ken 'The Hawk' Harrelson (your War Criminal time will come you fucker) sounded like he was suffering a massive heart attack. "This is BS!" the crotchety old fuck yelled, over and over. "This is BS!" Him and Darrin Jackson (worst Cub ever?) could not understand what was going on. To them the play was 'cut and dry' as they said over and over. They could not possibly understand what the umps were discussing.

This delay was 10 minutes long. Clearly, one would assume that one of their producers would just TELL them about the interference so that they wouldn't sound like such uninformed jackasses. The classic is, they couldn't even tell there was interference after replaying the same play over and over...and over! "This is BS!" I was so pissed at Hawk that I screamed at the TV. "You stupid fuck, it was interference! I hope you get hit by the team bus you incontinent douchebag!'

Whatever. Hawk, your team is a bunch of white trash, light hitting, washed-up nobodies and has-beens. I revel in your frustrated silences. Now it's back to drawing less than 20,000 fans a game and getting your asses handed to you by the Omaha Royals. Or is it Kansas City?

I gone.