"F the Cubs, I'm done supporting these assholes. I'm dead serious, I'm finding a new team. I can't take it," I drunkenly announced to my fellow bloggers at 11 AM Arizonatime. Maybe it was the Tucker Max Death Mix (some fucked concoction of Gatorade, Smirnoff, and RedBull), the 6 beers I had already drank, or my proclivity to say things at the wrong time, I may never know.

Actually, it goes back farther than that. My gradual ascension out of Cubdom started directly during the 2003 season, when there were about 7,000 more Cubs fans in Omaha than there were the year before. Suddenly, local bars were crowded with obnoxious bandwagon climbers-on sensing the chance to be a part of something great. After all, I suppose it is human nature for people to grab hold of something that was equal parts never-before-seen success, redemption for a century of misery, and plenty of enthusiastic drinking and revelry.

As we now know, it was all a mirage, the Cubs continued to be the Cubs and all was right with the world. I was upset with the NLCS, but not surprised. Nothing about the Cubs should ever be a surprise. From 2004-2006, normalcy gradually returned. By late in the season 2006, die hards were really all that was left of the Omaha Cubs scene. Sure the Cubs were horrible, but as a Cubs fan this was hardly a revelation. I watched every game and felt the usual Cubs dismay, frustration, and anger. Weirldy, I was happy, things were comfortable.

That's when I realized it, I WANTED the Cubs to be bad. My least favorite period as a Cubs fan was that 2003 playoff run, not just because we lost, but because the Cubs axis was turned on its side. Did I want my team to be a success, only to suffer the insufferable once again? My answer, oddly, was no. I liked my beer cold, my meat red, and my Cubs horrible. I liked not having to talk to every drunk asshole in a Mark Prior jersey at the bar about how the Cubs might win the World Series. I liked following the team with my trusted circle of friends and others that I knew had been following the Cubs their entire life. Should the Cubs become good again, I knew that the bandwagon would be back and I would be upset with it, and I didn't want that to happen again.

Then there was 2007 free agency. Soriano, Lilly, Marquis. Rampant overspending for all. The Cubs' payroll ballooned and I watched the events unfold like a guy watching his girlfriend bang some other dude right in front of his face. Part shock, part dismay, part anger. Several questions emerged: What the hell are we doing? (Jason Marquis is terrible, Ted Lilly questionable, Soriano is batting leadoff and playing centerfield despite being a poor fit at both) How can we be doing that? (Because apparently they are jacking up the payroll to increase the value of the team to sell them) Why did we never do this before? (Because winning has never been a priority because people go to Cubs games regardless). What a bunch of assholes. If you give me a blank check and a carte blanche attitude now, why did you not do it in the past 50 years?

My third bone of contention has to do with the Tribune Company being the biggest corporate cocksuckers in the universe. The rooftop dispute was strike one. Broadcasting a lot of the games on FSN and not WGN was strike two Now, in advertising on the Ivy and the "Bud Light" bleachers I officially want to fucking vomit. They are the biggest whores this side of Atlantic City. Now, not only do I dislike most of people who root for the team (at least when they are good), I now hate the organization with a newfound zeal.

Back to Arizona. I said I was done with the Cubs, and I'm a man of my word, even when drinking. The resistance among the Cubs fans I hang out with (most of whom routinely post on this blog), has been palpable, but not unbearable. I really don't even think most of them are angry, or even disappointed, I think they just feel my loyalty is negligible. A valid criticism. However, I don't see any of my feelings of resentment toward the decision making and philosophy Cubs organization from a baseball perspective, the corporate whoring of the product, and the general shift in what it means to be a Cubs fan from "undying loyalist and true believer" to "drunk guy with no historical perspective who is only seen or heard from when the Cubs win." In Chicago, this may not be the paradigm, but in Omaha it undoubtedly is. Objectively look at Cubs fans in Omaha and you'll discover that they really are by and large a bunch of dicks. And I don't live in Chicago.

To my former fellow Cubs fans (especially those I have been following the Cubs with since we were trying to grab ass at Rec Center teen dances): I absolutely do apologize for letting you down with my abandonment. I felt like I could never reconcile my conflicting feelings about the team and honestly root for the product on the field objectively. I thought it was better to cut ties than half-assedly support the Cubs vocally while hating them internally. I welcome all criticism that comes my way and I will own up to it. This was not an easy decision, but I felt it was the right one. You are entitled to disagree. Best of luck with the Cubs in the future, you'll probably fucking need it.

For the past three weeks I have been looking into new teams, and I believe I have settled on one. I did not pick the best team in the league, nor the worst. I used location, tradition, future direction, front-office philosophy, uniforms, stadium and fan enthusiasm as my criteria. I will not reveal its identity until tomorrow, but my team will be announced on this blog sometime tomorrow morning. Some of you will hate me, some will probably endorse the choice. Stay tuned.

And to the rest of you, if anyone is still reading: Enjoy the 2007 baseball season, it should be a great one. I'll post predictions tomorrow as well.