HERE WE GO!!!!!

GAME 1:  Carlos Zambrano vs, Brandon Webb

 Big Z takes the mound tonight for Game 1 of the NLDS in Arizona.  The D-Backs will pitch last year's Cy Young winner, Brandon Webb. 

There were a few surprises when the roster and lineup was announced yesterday.  Craig Monroe was left off the roster and both Matt Murton and Felix Pie were kept on.  Both Ronny Cedeno and Mike Fontenot were kept, and Daryle Ward's hand is healthy enough to play.  Kevin Hart was put in the bullpen instead of Sean Marshall (Lou did say that Marshall would be stretched out to be used if the Cubs move on), Steve Trachsel, and Will Ohman.  Hart's rise within the organization has been amazing.

Geovany Soto was named as the starting catcher for Game 1, but did not commit to any other games.  Lou did say that Jacque Jones would play every game in CF.  Zambrano will start Game 4 on short rest if the game is needed, while Jason Marquis will be used in long relief.

I'm happy with all the decisions.  (As if that matters...)

The playoffs are as wide open as ever.  Any of the 8 teams could win.

Go Cubs Go!!!!!!

Bartman:  I've already seen several pieces regarding the Bartman play.  Most of them put the blame on the poor guy for the Cubs not getting to the World Series.  That is soooo absurd.  I am so sick of this story and how stupid and mean people can be. 

Here is my post before this season started: 

To one of the classiest of Cub fans, Steve Bartman, I want you to know that I have never blamed you for any part of the 2003 loss.  And I suspect most of the real Cub fans don't either.

First if all, but for the Grace of God go I.

Secondly, you weren't alone.  Almost everyone in your area was lunging for the ball.  The guy next to you was actually so zealous that he pushed you toward the ball.  Nearly everybody, Cubs fan or not, would have done the same thing.

Thirdly, the Cubs team needs to take 90% of the blame.  Alou might not have even caught the ball, Gonzalez booted the biggest play of the game, and Prior and Farnsworth blew up.  Baker should have come out to settle the team down as much as possible too. Let alone the debacle of Game 7.

Finally, 10% of the blame, or more, goes to the rest of the Cub fans in Wrigley at the time of your incident.  There is no curse on the Cubs, but the reaction of most of the spectators in attendance caused the team to think that maybe there really is a curse.  It was a self-induced prophecy.  There was a very distinct and incredibly eerie hush and shocked "sound" that overcame Wrigley at the moment of your unfortuante event.  I was instantly sure the Cubs were in trouble, not because of you, but because I knew the stunned reaction from the Wrigley crowd could turn the momentum of the entire series completely around.  And it did.  It was like everyone said to themselves, "Here we go.  The curse is here.  It's over."

I don't believe in curses, but if there was one that night it was from the Baseball Gods punishing Cub fans for turning on one of their own.  The disgusting display of so-called Cub fans during, and since, that game have been incredibly disturbing.  I hope you and the rest of America realize that most Cub fans empathize with your situation and wished it had never happened; not because of what transpired in the game, but what happened to a great Cubs fan. 

Go Cubs!!!

Here is a great column by the Chicago Tribune's Rick Morrissey:

You know the fan. Leave him alone
Rick Morrissey
In the wake of the news

September 30, 2007

CINCINNATI -- You know it's coming, I know it's coming, and, somewhere, Steve Bartman surely knows it's coming.

The Cubs are in the playoffs for the first time since 2003, when an anger-mismanaged left fielder named Moises Alou, a flustered pitcher named Mark Prior and a jittery shortstop named Alex Gonzalez brought Chicago to its knees in new and acutely painful ways.

But outsiders and dumb locals who should know better will put the blame on Bartman this week when the Cubs start their division series.

I know I'm probably not doing Bartman any favors by bringing him back into the klieg lights. But trust me, every nationally broadcast Cubs playoff game will include the sad tale of a season that crumbled because of a headphones-wearing fool who put his hands out to catch a foul ball.

It will be lazy, cheap and mean-spirited.

Don't give in to it.

What happened at Wrigley Field in 2003 was simple. The Cubs were leading the Marlins three games to two in the National League Championship Series. With one out in the eighth inning of Game 6, Florida's Luis Castillo hit a foul ball down the left-field line. The score was 3-0.

TV cameras showed a man in headphones and a Cubs sweatshirt, along with other fans, reaching for the ball. But it was Bartman who deflected it. Alou didn't make the catch and let the world know he was outraged by slamming his glove to the ground. The cameras trained on Bartman, who had the look of a deer in the headlights of a Sherman tank.

It has come to be generally accepted in all of this that Alou would have caught the ball if Bartman hadn't touched it, but that's a leap. There is no way of ever knowing that, and when I first saw a replay, I didn't think Alou could have caught it. Nothing since then has changed my mind. Bartman did not reach over the railing to get to the ball.

But that doesn't matter, does it? Perception and a good story matter. And so the weavers came out and spun a tale of a dorky guy who fit in perfectly with the age-old depiction of the Cubs as inept and doomed to eternal failure.

Never mind that Prior seemed to come unglued, immediately throwing a wild pitch. Never mind that Gonzalez soon botched a routine ground ball on a double-play opportunity that could have ended the inning. Never mind that the Marlins scored eight runs in the eighth.

And never mind that Wrigley felt heavy that evening, as if there was no way it could support the weight of a possible World Series appearance.

No, perception was off to the races, and it hasn't stopped to rest yet. The Cubs would have been in the World Series if not for the dope in the seats down the left-field line! How perfect!

Steve Bartman no more caused the Cubs to miss their first World Series appearance since 1945 than you did or I did or the Invisible Snowman did.

But that did not matter much in the days after the Cubs blew it, when media members hunted him down and hucksters tried to make money off his notoriety. The Sun-Times revealed his name and home address in an online article—you know, in case anyone wanted to stop by and console the poor kid. Remember, security officers had to escort Bartman from Wrigley after the foul ball because other fans were throwing things at him and verbally abusing him.

That Bartman was innocent of causing the Cubs' collapse hasn't mattered in the four years since the incident. All it takes is one word, "Bartman," to evoke images of futility, bad luck and all things Cub.

The difference between the Billy Goat curse and the Bartman story is that one is an abstract topic of discussion, and the other involves a breathing human being. One is kind of a fun idea, and the other is cruel and borderline dishonest.

Since that October night, I often have found myself watching to see what fans do when a foul ball is hit down the line. Almost always, at least one person—and usually many more—reaches for a potential souvenir, even if a player is leaning in to attempt to make a catch.

We call this "human nature."

Again, none of it will matter in the coming days. The media will descend on Aisle 4, Row 8, Seat 113, the place where Bartman's life changed. Let's be clear on that: The Cubs' life didn't change there; Bartman's did.

Over the years he has turned down all interview requests. Good for him. Just because everyone around him acts like a knucklehead doesn't mean he should. There's dignity in that, and it's something we all should think about as the playoffs begin and the compulsory Cubs futility stories are prepared.

Bartman turns 30 in October. Maybe the Cubs can give him a birthday gift that will make a lot of this go away. A World Series title would be nice.

Copyright © 2007, The Chicago Tribune