I hate baseball

See that picture? I saw it live on television as a 13 year old kid. I remember it. It is not the Cardinals. I don't care about them. It isn't the Mets. They don't matter. It isn't the individual Cub players. They are pawns in something bigger. I just do not know what that "something bigger" is. It is like God is mad at the Cubs. Too many quality guys have come and gone only to fold in October. To many weird things (hello, Steve Bartman) has happened. It's cosmic. I really believe it is cosmic.

At this moment, after watching total CARNAGE unfold on my television for several days, I cannot conceive of ever caring about baseball again. If the players do not care then why should I? I am perfectly capable of holding a bat on my shoulder while baseballs go whizzing by just like they did. (Hint: No "swingy swingy/no hitty hitty.) And you wouldn't even have to pay me millions of dollars for the privilege. Just buy me dinner. I'm a cheap date.

I have a personal rule. Being a pastor, and with Sunday being the most intense day of the week, I have made a covenant with myself to never make a major decision on a Monday. This rule has served me well.

This, being the day after the total implosion of "my" Cubs, is not a day for making decisions about my future as a baseball fan. If it were ...

Well, never mind. It just is not the day.

Today I hate baseball.