Polished Post: The Cubs.

Baseball Thought:

What can I say about the Chicago Cubs, a team of bitter destiny that is ailing just one game into the playoffs?

One minute, I'm in my car with Jon Miller's radio voice massaging my ears and it's 2-0 Cubbies. Next minute, I'm switching on high def at home and it's 7-2 Dodgers and Wrigley Field is quiet but for the flapping outfield flags.

Quick changes in momentum are a hallmark of America's new No. 1 sport, football. Yet football games, even the best ones, feel pretty long at three-hours-plus. By the final whistle, you're spent as a fan. The players look tired, the coaches look tired, the refs look tired. It's a true happening: a parade wrapped in a marathon wrapped in pro wrestling. Football is a fiesta for the sporting senses.

Baseball is exactly the opposite. Games can last for-ev-er. Many more are played. The "playoffs" take days, not a Sunday afternoon. Baseball's slow pace is part of its charm. It's snacking on peanuts, listening for the hot dog guy, sipping on a lukewarm beer. But, boy, that laziness can end instantly. Crack! Grand slam! Bases rounded. Thanks for coming. Series over.

The Chicago Cubs have had the century-old Curse of the Billy Goat in their sights all season: Home field. Check. Best record. Check. Mega payroll. Check. Obligatory Sports Illustrated cover. Check. In the time it took me to walk from car to house, that painstaking setup had all but vanished.

Yet with baseball's curse of instant death comes its blessing of getting to fight another day. Game Two approaches. If the Red Sox can do it, so can you. Cubbies, the time is now.