A glimpse of the old Mad Dog

As of yesterday, the Cubs losing streak has officially stopped being funny. Future Hall of Famer #31, Greg Maddux, was inept. When that happens, you know the wheels have come off.

The 40-year-old whiz kid has been the only bright spot, the only source of pride, for the North Side lately. The NL pitcher of the month in April, he was 5-0. Now in May, he's 0-4. This is soooo not like him.

I cannot find it in my heart to be angry at #31, though. Or even disappointed. Because he loves the game, and he cares so much. The quiet, controlled Professor of the past decade or so gave way yesterday to the old Mad Dog of this rookie years. When he left the game in the 6th, he grabbed a bat and put a water cooler out of its misery.

He wasn't mad at the umpire. He didn't blame the weather. There were no complaints about how lukewarm Cub bats have been without D. Lee. Not from #31. When asked how the Cubs could snap this streak, he said, "Play better and win. Win. That's the only way to do it. Talk is cheap." No alibis. Just professional pride.

I know that for him, the next game is the key. And that the next time he takes the mound, he'll be the pitcher that Jane Fonda praised for his ability to be mentally and physically relaxed, regardless of the pressure. That's the Professor I've gotten used to, and admire so.

But I also admired the passion I saw when he took that water cooler out. As long as that fire is still burning inside of him, I know someday there will again be joy in Wrigleyville.