Tell me why

Note: Cubs first baseman Derrek Lee fractured his wrist Wednesday night. What follows is my open letter to the baseball gods.)

Dear baseball gods,

This is the first letter I’ve ever written to you, so I’m not sure if I should be writing to you or the baseball arch-angels. I apologize if this is out of the chain of command, but I have a few things I need to inform you of and felt this open letter was the best way to get in touch with you.

First of all, I’d like to say I think you’ve done a wonderful job with the game. When you gave man the inspiration to develop the game nearly 150 years ago, I doubt us mortals would have thought it would still be going strong. Despite our best efforts to ruin your great creation (racial segregation, steroids, playoff games ending after kids are sound asleep), you have blessed us with a game that has withstood the test of time.

Also, for the past four years, you’ve allowed us to marvel in Ichiro and Albert Pujols. I believe these two players are not human like me, but instead are Hurcules-type half-man, half-god creature roaming among us mortals to remind us of your power. Thank you for letting us witness their exploits.

Despite the wonderful things you’ve done with the game, I can’t help but notice you have a cruel sense of humor and enjoy toying with us humans in a way that makes Oedipus Rex look like Women of the Thesmophoria. How else are our simple minds expected to comprehend Bill Buckner, Steve Bartman or the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

This last point leads me to the thrust of my correspondence to you. You seem to take an inordinate amount of joy in pulling an Abu Gahrib on Chicago Cubs fans, torturing us until we can’t take any more. (Note to my earthly readers: Too soon for a torture joke?)

In a recent post on my blog, I compared being a Cubs fan to being in an abusive relationship. However, I may have merely been ignoring the most obvious fact of all, the baseball gods enjoy our suffering and keep coming up with new ways to add to our pain.

You sent the Cubs an amazing talent in Kerry Wood. We marveled at his ability to make hitters swing and miss. You even guided him to strike out 20 players in a game. And then you cursed his career with injuries. Then, in what looked like a gift from your alter, you sent us Mark Prior. We humans marveled at his talent and this time, you teased us even more by giving him perfect mechanics. And yet, he’s also hurt, including a line drive off the elbow that could only have happened because you enjoy our wailing.

But this year, with the golden boys out with injuries, we were playing well at the beginning of the year. The Cubs had yet to lose two games in a row and Derrek Lee was enjoying a good start after an amazing year last year.

But in your desire to continue our suffering, you deemed it necessary to have Lee break his wrist and miss two to three months.

So I’m here to beseech you; what do you want from us? What offering do you demand to lift this black cloud that hovers over this team. Is it beer? Descend to our planet and enjoy a game in the bleachers of Wrigley Field and taste your nectar. Is it devotion? My work suffered this week as I stayed up as late as possible to watch the Cubs play on the West Coast.

Please, baseball gods, I beg of you. Tell me what I can do to alleviate the pain and suffering. What sacrifices can we, as Cubs fans, make to appease you? Just please, ease our pain.