Peyton Manning was my fantasy quarterback, dammit.

Apparently, it is just going to be that kind of season. This is potentially going to be worse than the season where I had Rex Grossman at the helm and would sometimes make negative points in QB.

Yes, I dropped him. But now I’m stuck with Sam Bradford and Matt Cassel. Yes, Matt Cassel. But at least he has a P next to his name — that’s for Probable. P Manning? Not so much.

Thank God hockey season starts soon.

But then Sean Marshall came along today and blew a perfectly good start by Garza. So there goes that one. Apparently, Marmol isn’t the only one out to get this team. As usual, others in the bullpen have chosen to get in on the act.

I hate poetry.

Especially haiku.

I just felt the need to limit myself to 17 syllables when discussing Marmol because I was SO mad, I couldn’t afford to waste any more energy on him. Seriously, I went to bed early last night because I had exhausted myself being ticked off at Carlos Marmol. That’s probably unhealthy on multiple levels, but can you really say that those thousands of people who waited in line all day to see the midnight showing of “Harry Potter” are more mentally stable? Yeah, that’s what I thought. At least I was sleeping as Thursday turned into Friday.

I am relieved to say that I will not be writing another Marmol haiku for the foreseeable future because, as dumb as Mike Quade is, even he couldn’t take it after Mr. 16.63-ERA Marmol nearly blew another save on Friday. So we get Woody and Sean Marshall for a while. Maybe for the rest of the season. I could live with that — especially if Quade is the next one to get the boot. One can only hope.

We were only in the Midwest for a slightly extended holiday (Kamehameha Day) weekend, which meant only three full days. Somehow, those included two baseball games, both involving the Milwaukee Brewers. Todd and I had already done a Miller Park tour with our friends Kathleen and Jim back when Jim was working in Wisconsin, but we’d never seen a game there, and in all honesty, I was just dying to see the legendary Sausage Race. When I found out that the Brewers were going to be playing the Cardinals at Miller Park the weekend we were planning to be in Chicago, I knew it was destiny: We had to go. Of course, our friends Leesa and Scott offered to drive and make it happen.

Todd and me in the Miller Park bleachers before the game.

Sausage Race! So. Awesome.

So was the Sausage Race all it was cracked up to be? YOU BET. Plus, because it was “Sausage Sunday” (that’s what she said . . . really, that is what the girl at the Meat Locker — not kidding — said), all souvenirs having to do with the Sausage Race were 10% off at the gift shop! I mighta kinda gone bananas purchasing omiyage and souvenirs for myself (including a pair of Chorizo earrings and a stuffed Chorizo doll), but what a bargain! Plus, who else is gonna bring home Sausage Race gifts, right?

Totally weird: Because Chorizo is my favorite of the Sausage Race dudes and I bought mostly stuff with him on it, the cashier seemed to assume that I was Mexican and made a sympathetic remark about me having missed Cerveceros Day by one day. Do I need to start taping my eyelids or what!

The next day was another Brewers game, but this time, it was the Brewers vs. my Cubbies at our “home” stadium, Wrigley Field. Todd and I have had a paver at Wrigley since the brick program started in 2007. The Cubs keep moving it around as they do renovations at the ballpark, but we managed to find it again this season:

The brick! Yay!

And, of course, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves at the game.

The iconic Wrigley Field scoreboard.

Not a better place in the world to watch a ball game.

My favorite Cub, Ryan Dempster, was the starting pitcher!

By enjoying ourselves, I mean there was some serious whooping and screaming going on. OK, so maybe only I was yelling . . . which would explain why I was a little hoarse afterward. What can you do. And hey, maybe it worked: After all, Cubs did snap their gazillion-game losing streak and take the first of three games they would eventually win in the series against the Brewers. Now they’re no longer in last place in the National League Central!

Oh, how I do love a Cubs game. Even when they’re losing, even when they’re on rain delay, there’s nothing quite like it.

The weather, by the way, was superb: 60s and 70s with wind chills in the 50s and 60s. I loved every minute. When the fog cleared away, you really couldn’t beat the view . . .

The Chicago River, as viewed from the Michigan Avenue bridge.

. . . and, of course, it’s hard to beat Chicago food:

Mochomos (crunchy threads of grass-fed beef brisket), Topolobampo.

Borrego en Mole Negro (lamb leg w/Rick Bayless’ prize-winning Oaxacan molé), Topolobampo.

The Mastodon, Kuma’s Corner (most Yelped restaurant in Chicago).

Portillo’s cheese fries: They may not look like much, but they are the best cheese fries out!

Ahh, Chicago. I miss you already. When’s our next adventure?

I should have stayed in bed.

Ernie Banks is often the one referred to as “Mr. Cub,” but every fan knows that the ultimate Cub was and will always be #10, Ron Santo. Even though the Reds offered him $80,000 right out of high school, Ron went with the Cubs – who offered him $60,000 less – because he loved Wrigley Field. He played his heart out and rarely missed a game, despite the diabetes he was diagnosed with in his late teens. Little was known then about managing the disease, and Ron made it his life’s goal to change that. The result: Tens of millions of dollars have been raised for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation thanks to his efforts.

In addition to his on-field and diabetes-related heroics, Ron “saved” many Cubs fans by providing a much-needed dose of humor (intentional or not) over the radio, especially during those games where we just couldn’t bear to think about the dismal score. Pat Hughes and Ron Santo, the Pat and Ron Show – the duo were as important to Cubs culture as the players themselves. This past season, Ron was ordered by his doctor to sit out quite a few road trips. The result: I listened to a lot fewer games than I usually do. The games just weren’t the same without Ronnie. It’s rare to find a broadcaster who truly loves your team as much as you do, but Ron did. In fact, he loved them more.

I rarely say things like this about celebrities because, well, they’re usually just celebrities – people whose lives are so far-removed from ours that we can’t possibly comprehend what they are/were really like. But the way Ron Santo spoke, the way he pulled for those Cubs with renewed energy every season, you just know that even if you’d never met him, you knew him. And I say with the greatest of sincerity that Cubs baseball will never be the same. We’ll miss you, Ronnie.

I love, love, love Wrigley Field. Love Wildcat football. Wish I could go! =)

The game (University of Illinois Illini vs. Northwestern Wildcats) is this coming Saturday, Nov. 20, at 2:30 p.m. CST. It’s on ESPNU, which (thank God) we get in HD.

We no longer have Dan Persa, but it’s the Cardiac Cats, so you gotta believe! GO CATS!

I called in sick at work today. The migraine that’s been making threats all weekend finally landed. Maybe it had to do with Quade, maybe not. Either way, though, I’m glad I’m only making plans to visit the city during hockey season his year. The Cubs front office sucks.