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No doubt moved to action by a public effort launched by the unlikely troika of Reverend Jesse Jackson, WSCR’s Mike North and North’s station-mate, Mike Murphy, the Cubs have decided to erect a statue of Ernie Banks. Mr. Cub is one of the most beloved and historically significant athletes in the city’s history, and per this story in the Chicago Tribune and a phone interview with Ron Santo that played on WGN Radio before Tuesday night’s game in San Diego, it’s apparent that Banks couldn’t be more thrilled. In this regard, I think Ernie is a bigger man than most; I know he’s a bigger man than me. I have always been disgusted that the Cubs chose to honor Harry Caray’s carnival act with a statue near the corner of Addison and Sheffield—not to mention his caricature above the press box and the “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” abomination that John McDonough seems proud to extend indefinitely—before they did anything meaningful and permanent for Banks beyond retiring his jersey. (Jack Brickhouse, too, contributed much, much more to the richness of the Cubs franchise than Caray, but that’s a rant for another day.) If Ernie is happy, then I am happy, too. (I’m ignoring for now McDonough’s ominous warning, reported by Fred Mitchell in the Tribune, that the change in Cub ownership could delay the project.) Congratulations, #14. Those of us who saw you play were fortunate. Those who didn’t missed someone special.

Since beginning a trip to New York and Philadelphia last Friday, the Brewers have lost 5 of 6 and been outscored 35-28. Their win was a laugher (12-3) against the Mets, and they’ve also been on the wrong end of an ass kicking, 9-1, by the New Yorkies. The Cubs have lost 4 of 6 with the Phillies and Mets and been outscored 33-28. One of their wins was a laugher (10-1) against the Mets, and they’ve also been on the wrong end of an ass-kicking,  8-1, by the Mets. The big difference between the Brewers and the Cubs is that when the Brewers set off on their journey, they were 24-10 and 7 games ahead of the second place Cubs. Also, the Brewers have a slugging first baseman with a spasm-free neck. The Cubs can only dream.

I attended my first game of the season Wednesday night and saw the latest episode of Jason Marquis’ serial drama, “I’m Gonna Prove That All You People Didn’t Know What The Hell You Were Talking About,” co-starring Larry Rothschild as The Mentor. It was a joy to behold, so much so that I was almost oblivious to the fact that one of our hitters left nine of his teammates out on the bases. Anyway, I got home too late to post anything. Now, I’m at the keyboard and in the interim, Carlos Zambrano went out and struck the latest blow in his battle to become our fifth starter. As the game report at cubs.com points out, opponents are hitting .361 against Zambrano in their first-inning at-bats, and Z has yielded 13 first-inning runs in 8 starts. To date, the chief suspect has been arm angle, as in, Carlos’s has been too low or too all over the place.

The sad story of Josh Hancock’s crash Saturday night conjured the inevitable comparisons to Darryl Kile’s death at the Westin Hotel in Chicago in June, 2002. It also reminded me of an item which appeared in Jon Weisman’s Dodger Thoughts last week, a link to an L.A. Times story about the family of Tim Crews, who died along with a Cleveland Indians teammate during a spring training boating accident 14 years ago. The piece, written by Bill Plaschke, is quite good and quite sad. The gist of it is that for all of the teammates and all of the baseball officials who gathered around the family at the time of Crews’ death, none have kept in touch or helped keep the Crews children connected to a game that their father loved and played for six Major League seasons. (Crews was a Dodger from 1987 through ’92. He signed with the Indians as a free agent in January of ’93, dying before he ever actually played in Cleveland, thus the story’s relevance to the L.A. Times.) As for Josh Hancock’s team, the Cardinals, it seems unlikely they will be able to regain their focus anytime soon. On the other hand, the same seemed true of the ’02 team which had to deal with the loss of Kile, a veteran who was, by all accounts, a beloved teammate and part of the emotional center of the squad, not to mention a major contributor on the field. At the time of Kile's death, the Cardinals stood at 40-31, two games ahead of Cincinnati. Over the rest of the year, they went 57-34, finishing first in the NL Central and winning their Division Series against Arizona, before they were beaten in the NLCS by Dusty Baker’s Giants.