Hatin' On Your Hometown

The Second Fiddle

Somewhere between the meaningful land of hustle and bustle that borders the Altantic Ocean and the blissful naivete of the Left Coast, amidst the simple farmhands and even simpler values, lies a colossal anomaly affectionately known as the Second City.  Referred to as such most likely because it is typically an afterthought when considered alongside the more relevant cities that speckle the extremities of the American landscape.

If you ever feel the urge to visit Chicago, be sure to fly into one of their two inconveniently located airports.

What?  O'Hare is a short train ride away!

If by short, you mean long and annoying, then I hear what you are saying.  Look, I just spent over 2 hours stuffed into a aerial cesstube with 100 other ornery, non-toxicated individuals.  The last thing I need is to spend another 45 minutes hugging a hand-rail slathered in stuffed pizza grease, hemmed in by a gang of uber-ironic hipsters casually offering mustache rides to any willing female, so long as her i-pod is up to snuff, of course.


But to be honest, I would probably rather be riding the L, than cruising on that clusterfucked autobahn known as 90/94.  It's bad enough to be sitting still for several hours, but it really doesn't get much better when you are actually moving.  It's as if Chicago drivers were schooled in the poor tendencies of both coasts.  They combine the obliviousness of the West Coast with the hyper-dickishness of the East Coast, and the results would be fascinating if they weren't already so dangerous.

But the question is; where are they all going?  Oh, the Bulls are in town?  So what does that have to do with anything?  Since his airness left town, I don't think they have even sold out a game, including the playoffs.  And if they did happen to be so fortunate, I'm sure a few thousand of them showed up for the specific purpose of booing their young squad.  Oh, or to cleverly boo an opponent every time he touches the rock.  How Montreal Canadiens of you.  We know it's been tough since Jordan left town, but fear not, for a little bit his busted personality clearly still has not left the building.

And how about those Cubbie bears?  Ah yes, the lovable losers... Wait, losers aren't lovable at all.  Who started this notion?  Maybe if Cubs fans stopped treating a trip to Wrigley like a party in Provincetown, and began demanding performance from their players and coaches, then the team would actually produce at some point.  Actually, I hear Mark Prior is finally turning things around in the Padres system.  Oh, he's not?  Damn. Oh, well, I guess if your bad "luck" continues, you could always blow up another baseball or something.  Since, you know, it worked so well the last time.

And how about that "new" stadium on the shorelines?  Good for you, Papa Bears fans!  I've always wondered what it would be like to watch football from the comfort of a spaceship.  Hey, at least they kept the brick and those columns, am I right?  Place makes it look like the Green Monster seats have been there since the early 1900's.  And just what is with everyone in this town living in the past?  It's been over 20 years since your team has had a quarterback, let alone a shot at a Super Bowl.  No, silly; no one took you guys seriously in 2006 maybe with the exception of a few pollocks, a handfull of hopeful Pats fans, and one Phoenician transplant.  Now, they finally have a quarterback, but after two games they're all ready to dump their starting running back and put the weight of the season on the slight shoulders of a rookie wide receiver.  We know it's tough to stay calm and upright with a belly full of Old Style, but I think some stability and patience is just what the doctor ordered in this instance.

And how about them Blackhawks' fans? I mean, come on.  What with their outstanding attendance record and boisterous support throughout the 2009 playoffs...  Actually, I don't have anything bad to say about this group.  Hats off, gang.  Although seriously, fuck Hossa.
Bah!

Lastly, I would also say something about White Sox fans, being outsold by Real Sox fans anytime a series takes place on the South Side, etc.  But I am afraid I just might get jumped by a gang family of waste management executives before I can even get a word in.  I'm sure Alex Rios will be there to provide some protection for me though.  Oh that's right, Alex Rios can't provide protection for anyone.

Oh my gahd, it's like we were swimming alahng fine hyere, and den ahl of a syudden we were scyooped up and dropped ahff ahn a syandbahrr.  That's nyot veery nyice Byee. Lyee.

Oh come on, Chitown, shut off the sad bastard music and get tough.  And I swear to Buddha, if you don't take off that sweater, then I'm gonna do it for you.