Welcome to a select group, Carlos!

I love the Cubs. Sometimes I love the individual players so much that I don't care if they win or lose. I forgive a middling performance on the field if it looks like a player is doing his best. I would never, ever boo a Cub.

In short, I am every Cub player's dream fan.

And yet, the warmest emotion I can muster for Carlos Zambrano is antipathy.

He stunk up the Cell yesterday. OK, whatever. Some days even the best pitcher just doesn't have his stuff. That I can forgive.

I cannot forgive beaning two White Sox players and throwing a wild pitch. Just a month after he earned a suspension for throwing a tantrum when a call didn't go his way.

This is the man who has not only beaten up the Gatorade cooler and broken bats over his knee, he slugged his own catcher a few years back. Aside from showing appalling sportsmanship, he could have hurt himself with any one of those childish displays.

Carlos is a diva who is not about the team, he is about Carlos.

He has now entered the exclusive pantheon of Cubs I really dislike. In fact, today Zambrano is very close to surpassing Todd Hundley for sole possession of second place. However, it's doubtful he will ever even tie Dave Kingman. God, I hated that guy ...

But I digress.

Please, Lou, please ... Someone needs to kick Zambrano's ass and you're wearing the cleats that can do it.