Derrek Lee Escapes from Chicago

Derrek Lee finally agrees to a trade and is shipped to Atlanta for another three generic minor-league pitchers and, as fortune would have it. his first game in the new uniform would be in the old ball yard.

We were supposed to be happy that General Manager Jim Hendry got some warm bodies before Lee walked at the end of his contract? We should be hopeful that somewhere in the mass of acquired minor league humanity is a fellow that can find a strike zone?

I'm not dumping on Derrek. He was a good guy. He played a good first base. He was a solid hitter. He did this for six and a half years, but I don't think a .282 lifetime batting average is going to put him in anyone's Hall of Fame.

However, there is always precious little to be thankful for as a Cubs fan. In this Lake Wobegone of the National League where being above average and not getting arrested is reason to rejoice.

But lately, our relationship with Lee has been playing out like a bad marriage. First, his back hurt and he couldn't play. We understood his pain. Cub fans look at the team on the field and more and more of them are taking sunny afternoons off too. Instead of ivy and beer, it is preferable to be at the office. At least, those Cub fans that still have jobs.

Derrek had a sick grandparent and had to be away from the team last week. There have been lots of sick grandmas on the northside this year. Manager, Lou Piniella who retired a month or two ago has been bereaved a couple of times. Lots of us have fell ill watching this mess too.

But before I get up and cheer the newly healed, grief free Atlanta first baseman, I think about those two distracted errors on successive plays that cost the Cubs an early season game and helped set the tone for this shipwreck of a season. I think about all those double plays and men left on base. I think about those six consecutive playoff losses with Lee being one of the guys that at least had a decent average, but no RBI's. I think about the $76 million that we paid this guy and another wasted "era".

So on Friday afternoon as Derrek, the gentleman, tipped his batting helmet to the crowd, I sat and prepared to cheer Xavier Nady.

My wife said that she hoped that Lee could win something with the Braves.

Well, honey, he already did win "something" when he was a Marlin and kicked our butts in 2003.

I'm not going to be vicariously happy for all those who find victory in their greener pastures.

We were supposed to be happy for Mark Grace when he won that ring as a bench player for Arizona and shoved it our faces, but if he couldn't win one for all his chubby little girlfriends in Chicago, I don't want to hear about it.
So I'll just sit here with my pencil and scorecard ready. When a Darwin Barney or Wellington Castillo or some player-to-be-named-later finally helps us put the last century behind us, I'll be happy for us. Until then there will be no joy in Cubville and no rooting for the guys that left us behind.
By the way, the Cubs lose another in the ninth and Lee goes 0-4.
Hey, hey. Holy Mackarel.