Get out the brooms.

They did it.

Swept ’em.

Went to Chicago and took care of business.

Swept the baseball team everyone was talking about. Seemed like everyone I talked to about the play-offs was pulling for the Cubs.

They felt sorry for the Cubs.

Billy Goats, 107 years, and what’s up with the Ivy on the outfield wall?

Oh baby!

How about them Mets?



“I stayed in Farrell’s until last call,” Steve explained to Jimmy this morning as they sat on Jimmy’s stoop on Windsor Place.

Jimmy was pissed. Didn’t even touch his coffee which Steve had brought him.

He really didn’t want to talk about the Mets game 4 win last night in the Windy City.  Jimmy was a big-time Yankees fan.

“That fuckin’ Danny Murphy!” Steve added. “He’s amazin’.”

“Fuck the Mets!” Jimmy shouted. “I’m tired of them, enough already!”

Steve took a sip from his light and sweet coffee from Pynn’s Deli as he looked at a guy walk by the stoop on his way to the subway.

“Yo, Ryne Sandberg, FUCK THE CUBS!” Steve shouted to him as he laughed.  The guy dressed in a blue suit was wearing a blue Chicago Cubs cap.

He looked at Steve and kept walking, head down. This guy was showing his loyalty by wearing his Cubs hat to work.

“Hey Jimmy, I saw that chump in the Double Windsor last night, the joint was filled with Cubbie fans,” Steve said.

“Yo Joe Maddon,” Steve called out to the poor guy. “Andre Dawson, Ernie Banks and Mark Grace were not walking through that door!”

Jimmy didn’t find Steve’s trash talk amusing.  His head was buried in the newspaper.

The neighborhood had changed over the last few years. There were people from all over the country moving in.

“Yeah, Yeah, enough of that shit Steve,” Jimmy said, not even looking up from the paper.

“Let me guess you bet the Cubs last night?” Steve asked.

Jimmy was silent.

Red knew it. But when you think about it, no one expected the Mets to sweep the Cubs, America’s team. Even Steve was talking on the parkside yesterday about the Cubs winning last night.

“I’m down three-hundred.” Jimmy said to Steve as he got up and walked in his house.

“I gotta take a piss,” Jimmy said.

Steve polished off his coffee, jumped off  the stoop and began to walk up Windsor Place towards the avenue.

“LETS GO METS!” he shouted to a guy walking his baby in a stroller as he raised his styrofoam cup in the air.

The guy didn’t seem too interested in baseball.

“I’m from Cleveland,” he replied.




This entry was posted in Coffee, Daniel Murphy, Newspaper, Ryne Sandberg and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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