All right, fine. Maybe I jumped the gun dismissing all this witchraft stuff.
Maybe, perhaps, cats do cast some inexplicable spell over our heroes. Maybe, perhaps, some twist in the space-time continuum permits negative karma to seep into the Cubs’ bats simply through actions of any number of colored felines. Maybe cats continually prompt Ryan Theriot to try and steal. (Seriously. Stop. Running.)
Whatever the reason, the Cubs wasted two solid performances by Ted Lilly and Carlos Zambrano during the last two days. A feeble offensive attack that materialized only in Game 1 allowed the Reds two easy victories, Dusty Baker some sort of revenge, and Joey Votto to raise his average against the Cubs to a paltry .788.
In any case, fine. I’m scared to death of cats and their effect on the Cubs, and I just attached a sprig of garlic to Franklin’s collar. Hex over. I’ve done all I can do.
