What comes to mind when you hear mention of Chicago?  Those of you with a penchant for the adorable will probably think about Wrigley Field and the lovable losers.  You’ll remember the tragically devoted fans, their Huck Finn-like determination that, sooner or later, “It’s gonna happen.” Others more disposed to root for the underdog will think of the city’s second child, the White Sox.  Sure, they are not the more of an underdog in the classic win-lose sense of the word, but they are truly an afterthought to the majority of Chicagoans. (As previously established, they do not get a Ville.)   Some will wonder at the paradox of good, honest people in the epicenter of that paradise we call the Midwest destroying the one food in the world that is more or less perfect and typically designed to be indestructible.  (I’m going to give it give it to you straight: deep dish pizza is not pizza.  It’s an abomination.)  Or, maybe, you’ll just think, “That city has tornados – and people live there.”  To these people I would respond that Chicago weather has nothing on its politics.

The Windy City, for all its tornados, corruption and bad pizza is one of my favorite urban metropolises.  It has culture, character, Midwestern people, the Lake, and of course, it’s one of those rare few towns that loves its baseball just about as much as New York.  Some of you may recall the trip I took to Wrigley Field Last year. I tried to maintain a comfortable distance from all the cute.  After all, I’m a Yankees fan, and I have my dignity. The bottom line, though, is that it’s just plain old hard to be surrounded by all that earnest enthusiasm and not get a little bit caught up.  Not to mention the fact that the ballpark is just too magical to make you cynical.  The sight of those ivied walls and that old-fashioned scoreboard on a Saturday afternoon in the peak of the summer is  enough to make you say, “Aw, hell. Maybe it is gonna happen.”

This past weekend, I was able to get a slightly different take on Wrigley.  There are a number of houses across the street from the stadium, and since the rooftops offer a view of the park and a good place to congregate, they are more or less the equivalent to a Wrigley skybox.  The owners of these buildings rent the roof space for corporate events, charging a couple hundred dollars a head and offering in exchange a spot on the roof and unlimited food and beverages. This was my Wrigley experience this past Friday.  If some day some one should invite you to such an event, I would counsel you to say thanks, but no thanks, and then buy yourself a ticket for the actual game.

Sure, it was fun.  Of course it was fun.  Ultimately, however, it was the kind of thing that would have been cool to do had the people gathered on the roofs been the owners of the houses and their friends, taking advantage of their proximity to the stadium, anxious to watch the games however they could.  The way I see it, if you’re going to pay money, you might as well get the in-the-stadium feel.  Plus, call me old-fashioned, but I like to be able to see the scoreboard.  I also think it’s a bonus to see who’s at bat without having to turn around and check on a big flat screen television.    While we’re on the subject of flat screens, my take on televisions at the stadium is that they’re a convenience for mandatory excursions away from the seat — trips to the bathroom and the concession stand.  The stadium lounge and bar concept never really made sense or appealed to me.  You want to watch the game at a bar, go watch the game at a bar.  But if you’re going to take the trouble to go to the stadium, isn’t the point to actually be there? For me, the answer to that question is an unequivocal yes.

But you know me.  I’m just an old-timey, curmudgeonly Grinch desperate for a bygone era that I never experienced.  Don’t put too much stock in what I say.

Notwithstanding my desire to be in the stadium and my inability to see exactly what was happening, it was fun to watch the Cubbies take the Indians in the first game of a three-game sweep.  (I am not particularly a fan of the Indians.  Here’s why: their logo, my random affection for the Tigers and White Sox, Carl Pavano, and their usage of “Tribe,” if you know what I mean.)

It was a funny twist of fate that the Indians would be playing the Cubs this year because it meant that both Mark DeRosa and Kerry Wood would return to their old stomping ground, something that was unlikely to happen given their move to the AL. Friday’s game would prove to be something of a disaster for both players, each in different ways. DeRosa ran into the left field bullpen phone trying to catch a foul ball, which resulted in his sitting out Saturday’s game.  (He returned Sunday only to strike out three times.)  Wood’s disaster was more of the traditional variety — he just plain old blew the save.  He allowed a solo home run from Derrek Lee to tie the game in the ninth.  Though, in fairness, had the Indians not allowed the Cubs to score four in the ninth, then it never would have come to that.  That said, Wood also blew the save on Saturday.

The two blown saves cap off what has been an inconsistent season from Wood, who was meant to be among the most exciting of all their free agent acquisitions this winter. His ERA has made a rather dramatic bump from last year’s 3.26 to 5.47.  So, when it comes to his most recent outings against the Cubbies, as the saying goes, “That not just hurts, it stings.”

All in all, Friday’s was a funny sort of game, precipitated by a rain storm of biblical proportions, complete with thunder, lightning and even some of those aforementioned tornados. After an hour and a half rain-delay, it was not only playable, but it was positively scorching.  After an abysmal start from Rich Harden, the Cubs went into the 5^th with a seven-run deficit.  They went onto win the game 8-7 in the 10th. They then went onto sweep the series.  Go figure.  (Note: Carl Pavano skipped his start on Saturday because of shoulder soreness.  He assures us that he isn’t injured, that this is not a sign of things to come.  My prediction?  It begins again.)

The implications of this latest sweep are not so great for the Indians, who have now lost six in a row.  They are last in their division — back a whopping ten games. Sure, mathematically it’s obviously not impossible.  Realistically, it’s looking that way.  With the trade deadline just over a month out, the Indians have put DeRosa on the chopping block.  My hope is that Eric Wedge doesn’t join him there.

I’ve got news for you Indians fans: with or without Wedge as your manager, given the current state of your DL and what you’ve got in your bullpen this season, it’s not gonna happen.