The Chicago Cubs look lost—discombobulated, even. It’s like they’ve somehow decided that winning isn’t actually fun and that the concept of having a competent offense is a government ploy meant to dissuade you from coming to games, which, until the sun annihilates the Earth in a few billion years, Cubs fans will do.
We haven’t even escaped month two yet, and after going on two torrid 10-game winning streaks from mid-April to early May that had fans (including myself) thinking that this team was the second coming, the Chicago Cubs have regressed back to their fetal stage—a squirming, incapable mess of a squad that leaves men on base like it’s wartime with a pitching staff that seems to have finally ran out of pixie dust. It’s like they’ve forgotten who they are. The improbable magic that allowed them to scrape out walk-offs with timely hits and clutch pitching seems to have spontaneously encrypted itself, and nobody seems to know how to crack the code.
The dual losses of Cade Horton and Porter Hodge to UCL tears early on in the season already felt like a brutalization of a staff still reeling from the loss of Justin Steele to the same ailment, but incredibly clutch offensive performances on nearly all fronts were able to alleviate the stress on the arms and carry the team to a 27-12 record by May 8th. Uncertainties surrounding pitchers like Shota Imanaga—who’d become a meatball merchant by the end of the 2025 season—and Ben Brown—who got fired into the sun by Cubs Twitter for simply existing on the mound—were of major concern entering what was supposed to be one of the hardest initial stretches of ball any team in the league would have. But much to everyone’s surprise, a sluggish start led to the coalescence of a team dynamic that decided they ran this damn league, and their play backed it up.
The Cubs just couldn’t stop winning, and it wasn’t cause of a stellar team batting average, or that their starters were consistently put up Cy Young-level pitching performances. It was because somehow, some way, they had the divine mandate. Whenever they needed to claw their way back from hell, they managed to. Whenever their offense needed a boost, they sparked a rally. It was like no matter how grim the situation, you just knew they were going to pull wins off. And they did.
Now, it feels like I’m watching toddlers dance where grown men once stood. After May 8th, the Cubs have gone 2-10 over their last 12 and now sit in 3rd place in the hell division, the NL Central, with a record of 29-22. A brutal sweep by the Milwaukee Brewers served as the ultimate punch to the gut in a stretch full of baffling errors and pitiful offensive efforts. Just look at PCA, man. He’s arguably the best defensive center fielder in the league, and he does this.
Like… what? You know something’s off with the mojo when the guy who turns sure-fire hits into outs can’t field a routine single. It just sucks. Everything sucks. It’s become a chore to even watch this shell of a team take the field every day, and that’s simply the fate I’ve sentenced myself to.
Now, you may be thinking: “Why are you freaking out over a team that’s seven games over .500 in the middle of May?” And you’re right. I do sound like I’m making a preemptive insinuation that this season is over, and that the Cubs are doomed to another season of unrealized potential and shattered expectations. First of all, I promise I’m not, but it’s definitely been a rollercoaster of emotions that I can’t quite say I was readily prepared for. Our pitchers keep dropping like flies—even Edward Cabrera, our supposed new ace we acquired in a trade with the Marlins, is TBD for his next start—and half of our batters are teetering above the edge of the Mendoza Line. Even though the team has been making pretty hard contact lately, balls still fly right into the fielders’ hands. It’s hard to find optimism when we haven’t seen true consistent form from this team yet, and it doesn’t look like we will any time soon.
But that’s the beauty of baseball; you never know what you’re going to see when you tune in, or what kind of team you’ll get out of the nine guys. Sometimes their luck feels like it’ll never run out, and other times it feels like catching a break is as common as reeling in a fifty-pounder. As far as I know, the Cubs could very well be gearing up for another 10-game winning streak, or maybe they’re about to find a spark for their offensive form. The magic of those two giant winning streaks wasn’t found in barrages of homers and painting corners day in and day out; it was found in the ways each player stepped up for each other and never counted themselves out, even in the most arduous of situations. I know that version of themselves is still in there, lying dormant. What it’ll take to reactivate it? Only time will tell, but I’ll continue to seethe under my breath at each pitch until they do, because I’m bound by soul to this team through thick and thin.
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