Leaves are changing and the air is turning crisp and, by some miracle, the Cubs are still playing baseball this season. Somewhere, somehow, one can only hope that Harry is watching down over the Cubs, and enjoying their run.
Part of what's wrong with baseball today (sports in general) is the lack of characters. Harry wore his heart on his sleeve, and loved life and this city, and could put away his own share of the firewater and still show up for work the next day, and now we've got a couple of guys in polo shirts who you probably couldn't pick out in the bread aisle of the local Jewel foods. Wonder? Butternut? Len? Bob? All looks, sounds, tastes the same...
So, as we begin another postseason journey, another HUNT FOR OCTOBER! as the ESPN wanks would say, here's to Harry. This one's for you. Let's just hope Moises Alou doesn't show up to throw another spoiled-child-in-the-aisles-of-toys-r-us fit in left field after a foul ball.
Oh wait. He'll be at home, trying to get those choke marks off his neck, along with the rest of the Mets.
Boy oh boy...
Labels: cubs, harry caray, playoffs
