So Mariotti’s column ran online only today, receiving only a teaser in the print edition.

At any rate, it was about Bonds, so I decided not to read it (scroll down for more info on this.)

Since it’s Friday it seems like an appropriate time to take a little break from Jay to recognize some of the people that have helped make Chicago the best sports town in the country.

Today, we recognize the late Harry Caray.

Part of the reason I tend to be critical of baseball announcing booths is that I came of age watching Harry and Steve Stone on WGN. Between the baseball insight of Stone and the non-stop entertainment that was a Harry Caray broadcast, it just couldn’t be topped.

But it wasn’t just the crazy tangents, the backwards spelling of names or thinking every black player on the Cubs was Shawon Dunston. Harry’s larger-than-life, beer guzzling persona was a major force in creating the festive atmosphere that envelopes the Wrigleyville we know and love (or hate) today.

No matter which side of town you root for (and remember, Harry was a Sox broadcaster for 11 years), you have to respect a man who had his priorities in order: Family, baseball, beer.

I won’t say much more than that. In the nearly 10 years since his passing (hard to believe it’s been that long) he has been more than sufficiently memorialized throughout Chicago and nationally. But I would like to pass along a couple of entertaining YouTube clips to help waste away a Friday afternoon.

Harry was second to perhaps only Mike Ditka in local endorsement power. Here are a couple old commercials. I particularly like the Pizza Hut one with the two blondes flanking Harry.

Actually, this Budweiser ads has two blondes as well. Harry knew what roles to take, I guess.

Ryan Dempster reluctantly does his solid Harry Caray impression:

But the favorite has to be Will Ferrell:

Finally ... Harry doing what made him famous. The Bud Light commercial at the end is also priceless. Beer advertising has really come a long way in the past two decades.

You know how presidential candidates make a big production out of making the “official” announcement that they are running, even when it’s been abundantly clear to everyone that they were going to run for months?

Well, I am officially declaring my belief in the 2007 Cubs.

I nearly made the declaration two days ago after Aramis Ramirez clubbed a game-winning double for a dramatic 3-2 victory in which Lou Piniella managed like a cross between Sparky Anderson and the Asian clairvoyant from “Heroes”. But I wanted to wait and see how they responded to that first loss after the All Star break.

Today, they responded with a 12-1 victory that featured Koyie Hill, who hits about as well as I do, doing his best Derrek Lee/Aramis Ramirez impression with five huge RBIs. The twelve runs becomes even more significant in light of the fact that Lee and Ramirez spent the day out of the lineup, with Lee finally serving his five-game suspension and Ramirez getting a day to rest.

These are the kinds of things that happen in “those” seasons. Players you expect nothing from give you more than you could have ever hoped for, and unlikely victories become routine. Given that absolutely none of these things were happening in the beginning of the season, seeing them come in bunches is more than a little shocking.

So, I’m buying in.

What does this mean exactly?

It means no holding back. No waiting for the other shoe to drop. No sarcastic backhanded remarks about how they’re going to fall apart at any moment. I’m a believer. If they crumble or fall short, so be it. I’m willing to let myself get hurt.

Don’t confuse this with any kind of “we’re going all the way this year” guarantee. Call it an unapologetic acknowledgement that the Cubs have a legitimate shot. An admission that, good or bad, this is going to be a year to remember.

Even the Joke begrudgingly admitted his presence on the Cubs bandwagon this week on “Around the Horn”.

Of course, he still feels the need to distinguish himself from the stupid, common fan he so openly disdains, as he wrote in a column this week:

“I refuse to get moronic like the bleacher bozos and say the Cubs are bound for their first World Series since Piniella was 2.”

Among all of Jay’s characteristics that make me cringe, his contempt towards Chicago fans for doing what fans do—getting wrapped up in an exciting season—is particularly appalling. No one in his right mind—even the guy printing up the “It’s Gonna Happen” shirts, is sincerely positive that this is the Cubs year.

But when the Cubs give you a legitimate reason to think it COULD be the year, it’s infinitely more rewarding (and risky) to throw yourself into the season with reckless abandon then it is to rise above it, smug and aloof, and wait to see how things play out.

It’s not that Jay ought to be buying slogan shirts and cheerleading—that’s not his job. But it’s also not his job to be hostile towards anyone who dares to actually enjoy being a fan.

Well, I myself am going to enjoy every last bit of this season, no matter how it turns out. Because I know one of these years I’ll say “I have a good feeling” and actually be vindicated.

While I’m waiting, I plan to have the best time I can.

Barry Bonds comes to Wrigley Field this week for a four game set just four home runs shy of Hank Aaron’s all-time record.

Yawn.

I stopped being interested in Barry Bonds about when the BALCO scandal broke, which feels like decades ago. Since then, hundreds of thousands of column inches and hours upon hours of airtime have been devoted to the various issues surrounding Bonds’ pursuit of 756.

Naturally, Mariotti decided to pile it on today, reminding us all that Hank Aaron is the true home run king and encouraging everyone to maintain that perspective even after Bonds passes him.

Is there any rational baseball fan who didn’t come to that conclusion two years ago?

I’d would think Mariotti would actually feel a kinship with Barry Bonds. Both have clawed their way to the top of their respective professions by any means necessary and are about as likable as hepatitis, turning them into outcasts with few friends and little respect for their “achievements”.

But even if Mariotti might identify with Bonds, he also can never pass on an opportunity to get on his high-pony (the horse would be too big). But then he rides the little pony on top of a large bronco, creating a double-decker superhorse from which he can spew his venomous judgment throughout the land.

(Sorry if the double-horse imagery is confusing. I promise you, in my head it is hilarious.)

Given that Bonds makes such easy column fodder and gives Jay great opportunities to grandstand, I’d expect to see at least one, maybe two columns on the subject before Barry leaves town, depending on what happens during the next four games.

Either way, I’ll be much more interested in how the suddenly surging Cubs perform than the actions of some fraud, and what another fraud has to say about it.

Something extremely strange almost happened to me last night.

I was out at a bar with a few friends from high school half-heartedly watching the All-Star Game. With two outs and the NL down 5-2, it appears all but over when Dmitri Young steps up to the plate.

My friend DJ, typically a reserved fellow, almost jumps out of his chair talking about how he thinks he had a dream about this where Dmitri Young sparked an NL comeback while DJ was watching at the exact bar in which we were sitting. This bizarre case of déjà vu comes completely out of nowhere and leads me to tell DJ that not only would I follow him into a religious cult if the NL actually came back and won, but we would immediately attempt to cash in on his new-found clairvoyance with an ill-advised late night gambling trip across the Indiana border.

Just as we’re discussing this … Young reaches on an error and things start to get interesting.

Alfonso Soriano hits a two run homer and we’re glued to the TV. Mind you, all this is happening against J.J. Putz, who’s ERA is barely higher than Tank Johnson’s blood alcohol level.

K-Rod comes in and loads the bases. We’re absolutely riveted at this point.

Then Aaron Rowand hits a harmless fly ball for the third out. So, long story short, I am not a member of a religious cult and I don’t have any gambling losses to complain about.

But the experience did give me the inspiration to make a few predictions about the second half of the baseball season, some of them baseless, others quasi-informed.

You won’t see anything of the “The Cubs will finish with 89 wins and take the division” variety here. If I had that kind of foresight I’d be in Vegas right now. But I do have thoughts on some specifics that I think just might unfold:

Jay Mariotti will change his mind on Lou Piniella at least two more times: Probably the easiest prediction I could make. At this point I can’t even remember where Jay stood on Lou to begin with. And even if he thinks illLOUminating to make a sLOU of LOUsely logical LOUnacy and other pun-based references, I think it’s a LOUke-warm effort that just makes him look cLOUless.

One day when Jaythejoke has enough clout to develop ties with an offshore gambling facility, you will all be able to place bets on the dates of Jay’s various flip-flops. We’ll all be rich.

Aramis Ramirez and his knee will give me at least two heart attacks: The Cubs will not make the playoffs if Ramirez misses a significant stretch again in the second half, and anytime he hits a double he starts hobbling around like a 100-year-old man with an artificial hip. He needs to stick to home runs and solid singles where he doesn’t have to accelerate too much. Maybe the Cubs can get special permission to just have Felix Pie be his permanent pinch runner?

Watching the White Sox fans talk themselves into various prospects is going to be entertaining: I heard a rumor that Josh Fields is the next Brooks Robinson, much like Miguel Olivo was the next Johnny Bench.

Hawk Harrelson will remain silent for an entire half inning: I’m going with the bottom of the eighth of a White Sox – Tigers game where the White Sox are losing 13-2 and Magglio Ordonez has hit for the cycle.

White Sox fans will remind me they won the World Series two years ago: And after some quick Internet research I will realize it’s true. And I’ll have to stop talking. For a little while at least.

Bob Brenly will blatantly start reading Laffy Taffy and popsicle stick jokes from the booth: And Len Kasper will crack up. They have to be the single corniest announcing tandem in baseball. But it could be worse … they could always bring back Joe Carter.

Carlos Zambrano will throw a no-hitter: Just a feeling, just a feeling.

There will be a bizarre, ugly fan incident at Wrigley Field: That fan going after Bob Howry wasn’t the last of it. It’s just been such a strange season there already, I can’t imagine they’re done. I don’t know exactly what it will be … but it’s going to be something unprecedented. Like a pack of drunk guys kidnapping the other team’s batboy or something.

After said ugly incident, Jay will sound the alarms: He loves going on Around The Horn and rolling his eyes at the “crazy Chicago fans” as though he’s above everyone and branding the whole city as a bunch of beer-fueled LOU-natics (his word, not mine) just because of the actions of a few idiots. Then he acts like he’s deeply concerned with the image of Chicago even though deep down he hates it with every beat of his black oozing heart.

That’s all I’ve got for now. But if I get any other strange premonitions, you’ll be the first to know.

The Cubs did just enough this weekend to keep me interested.

As much as it feels like overemphasizing the importance of one series, a sweep at the hands of the Brewers probably would have signaled the end of the Cubs’ playoff hopes. Losing two of three would have put them on the edge of a free fall as well.

A sweep by the Cubs? Well that would have called for the trademark Mariotti “bucket of cold water” column where he urges restraint among the rowdy Cubs fans and reminds us that we haven’t won a World Series since 1908. Because, you know, none of us had any idea.  I thought the young fireballing phenom Henry Rowengartner led the Cubs to the World Series in 1993 with a little help from some guy who looked like Gary Busey. Apparently I was mistaken.

But alas, the Brewers avoided the sweep thanks to a 13-4 beating on Saturday. In truth, the Cubs probably should have lost the series, but then again they have been long overdue for another team to start having a late-inning meltdown or two like the Brewers did on Friday.

So as the Cubs head for the All-Star break sitting six and a half games out of first, they haven’t shown enough to induce full-blown Cubmania just yet, but they are certainly keeping everyone’s attention. Which is all you can really ask.

As a sports fan, obviously you want your team to win the whole thing every year. (Although obviously Cubs fans would settle for once in a lifetime). By those standards, of course, you are going to be disappointed the vast majority of the time. Even the Bulls dynasty, the kind of dominant run many fans never get the chance to enjoy, became a distant memory after just a few years of futility.

Since winning the whole thing obviously isn’t in the cards most of the time, the next thing you hope for is that your team at least gives you enough to entertain you for a whole season. As much as 2003 probably took a solid three years off of my life in stress and depression-related alcohol and fried food consumption, I’d still take it in a Red Bull-vodka-frenzied heartbeat over last season, when the Cubs were sleepwalking by June and Wrigleyville turned into a ghost town after the All-Star break.

Even when it ends badly, you’ll still take a season to remember over a season to forget.

That’s why White Sox fans, at least the ones I’m friends with, are so out of sorts lately when it comes to their team. They know they won the World Series just two seasons ago and still hold the ultimate trump card in any “Cubs suck/Sox suck” argument, but when your team has doomed you to an entire summer of meaningless baseball by the end of June it’s impossible to avoid the disappointment. Suddenly a White Sox game on television has all the appeal of reruns of “Becker”.

Earlier in the season I was convinced the Cubs were headed for a similar fate. But it’s amazing how just a few little things can turn a team around. Like a 240-pound Venezuelan pitcher assaulting his catcher. Or a bench clearing brawl sparked by a 6’ 10” Ivy League educated pitcher. Or an aging manager burying an unsuspecting third base umpire in dirt and following it up with his best Pele impression on his baseball cap. Or a diminutive Cajun second baseman doing his best Ryne Sandberg impression…

(OK, come to think of it, quite a bit happened in the last month or so).

It will be critical over the next seven games against the beatable (but still eminently dangerous ... Jaythejoke will NOT provide bulletin board material) Nationals and Pirates that the Cubs continue the good vibes going into the second half. Especially considering Milwaukee is playing the same two teams. Given that the old “win a big series and then drop four out of seven against teams with losing records” is a textbook Cubs maneuver, I’m not taking anything for granted.

Still, if the Cubs can climb permanently onto the good side of .500, 2007 might just be a year to remember. Of course, I would prefer it be THE year to remember. But given the alternative, I can live with being entertained.

(Of course, try telling me that at the end of the season when they collapse in some spectacular fashion and I’m catatonic for a month.)

Cubs baseball ... catch the fever! Or the plague. Whatever you want to call it.