Cubs Are Dead, But Not Done

Sarasota has some of the best beaches in the country. Soft white sand, gently waves, warm water…all making for a pretty good day at the beach.

At the very least it’s a nice break from Venice, where anyone under 90 is considered youthful, the local pub closes at 9pm sharp, and my 62-year-old father was actually carded when purchasing a beer—seriously, that’s no joke.

But hey, it’s not all that bad either, which is why I’m vacationing here.

There’s a lot Chicagoans could learn from our neighbors to the south. For starters, life is a bit slower here, but there’s something to be said for old fogies who still enjoy going places, doing things, and taking in an ocean sunset on a regular basis.

I wish the Cubs understood that same attitude—that despite one foot in the grave, down and out doesn’t mean dead and done.

This year is lost, but I still want to see this club go places, like above the .500 mark…some time before I’m dead.

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