Oh yeah? Well, thanks for nothing

The Cubs are thankful that we are so easily deluded into thinking they have a plan

Thanksgiving week is always a chance for people to pause and take a look at all of the things in their life they are thankful for.

For me, it could be that my wife interrupted a super important podcast taping to tell me she had locked her keys in her car at work and that her only set of spare keys was at her dad’s house 70 miles away. Seems like a great place for them. So, I spent a half hour on the phone with State Farm trying to use our road service to have someone go jimmy her door open only to have them repeatedly tell me that her car was not on our insurance. Turns out (surprise!) it actually was, but they couldn’t find it because when asked what year the car was I told them it was a year older than it was (I told them the year we bought it, and the model year was a year later) and finally they were able to crack that code.

So, I went to her work and we hung out in my car since the place was now closed. We got a text that the road service guy would be there in “60 to 90 minutes.” And we waited some more and I occasionally went over and used the flashlight on my phone to peer into her window hoping to see the keys, and asking her if she was sure they were in the car, and she said, “Of course they are, you dummy.”

And about 15 minutes later she reached into her coat pocket.

And, she said, “Oops.”

Oops?

And she pulled her keys out of her coat pocket.

What a strange place for keys to be.

We know what the Cubs are thankful for. They are thankful that so many of us, their fans, are willing to—against all common sense—trust them as they promise to rebuild a roster that went from the best and deepest in baseball just six years ago to “look at all these majestic 30 year old rookies” last year.