MILWAUKEE — The Cubs of early June to early September hit like a playoff team, pitched like a playoff team, fielded their positions like a playoff team and — let’s see, what else? — won like a playoff team, too.
We watched with our very own eyes as they put together a 50-28 stretch over essentially half a season. There’s no faking 50-28, folks. It takes a good team — a well-oiled machine — to run up a record like that.
But the Cubs the rest of the way? They turned out to be a ridiculous team, one that was allergic to leads, prone to stultifying gaffes and, bereft of any hints of confidence, in no way, shape or form capable of winning important ballgames. It took a bad team — a burned-out car sputtering along the shoulder of the highway, just trying to make it to the off ramp — to play its way out of the National League wild-card race the way the Cubs did.
“It’s the same team,” manager David Ross said.
If it were, there would be a best-of-three series coming up either here or in Philadelphia.
“I’m proud of this group and how they’ve come every single day,” he said, “because it is a group that is very resilient to adversity.”
We can quibble with that, too, of course, and we will. The Cubs played dead in two series against the Diamondbacks. Seiya Suzuki dropped that fly ball in Atlanta. Slick shortstop Dansby Swanson — all he does is win, he told the media after signing with the team — completely stopped hitting and even started misplaying balls in the field. The bullpen was stretched beyond its breaking point. It was a teamwide breakdown. If that’s resilient, we’re going to need a new dictionary.
Even Saturday, when the Cubs finally won a game, 10-6 against the Brewers — a meaningless outcome with the Marlins winning 7-3 in Pittsburgh to lock up the final wild-card spot — it was the Cubs at far less than their best. They blew an early 6-0 lead in its entirety, a team long past the point, apparently, where an easy “W” was even within the realm of possibility. Their starting pitcher, Jordan Wicks, couldn’t get through two innings. Later, with nobody out in a 6-6 game, Cubs third-base coach Willie Harris waved Alexander Canario around and into such an easy out at home, it was a preposterously terrible send — one last embarrassing gaffe.
This season just needs to be over.
“You earn your right to go to the postseason,” Ross said. “We have not played postseason-caliber baseball or [been] a team that deserves to be in the postseason as of late. That’s just a fact. And so, to get into the big dance, you’ve got to play well and you’ve got to play well when it matters. We haven’t.”
Why did the Cubs fall apart the way they did?
“If I had a rhyme or reason for it, I’d try to fix it or change something,” Ross said.
And who’s to blame?
“We’re all to blame,” he said. “I just think we’re in this together. Like, I wouldn’t separate myself from any player, front office, coach. We’re in this together.”
But this was a Cubs collapse. No, they didn’t go into the season as one of the NL favorites. Yes, they played pretty well on the whole, perhaps even exceeding expectations. Certainly, there are reasons to be hopeful about what’s in store. Ross believes the Cubs are a year away from a special opportunity, along the lines of the jump the Orioles made from 2022 to 2023.
But, again, let’s not pretend the Cubs didn’t blow a shot at the playoffs. Those don’t grow on trees, you know.
Whom are we blaming again?
“[If] we don’t get to where we want to get to, and I’m the head of the team, I’m the manager of this team, the blame should fall on me first,” Ross said.
That’s a different answer. Does it matter?
There’s blame to go around, and plenty of it. The car is burned out and sputtering. The exit is so close, you can see it.
