This kind of thing only happens to the Cubs, right?  They finally find a buyer for the team, and the guy has rickets?  Where is this guy from, Galapagos?  Nobody gave him a glass of milk or a citrus fruit when he was a kid?  He’s going to be the most bow legged thing the Cubs have had since Marla Collins.

Fine, so the Tribune company finally revealed who their preferred bidder is.  What a shock, it’s Tom Ricketts, like we didn’t know what already.  What this does is it gives Sam Zell another six or eight weeks to screw this whole thing up.

The Cubs apparently picked Ricketts over the other two “final” bids because he and his mommy and daddy and sister are going to give them $450 million in cash.

Hey, if that’s all it took, I should have bid on the Cubs.

As for whether this is good news or bad news, everybody has an opinion, and most of those opinions are just as vapid, and uniformed as yours or mine would be.

While some pollyannish dopes think it’s neat-o, and keen that a guy who met his wife in the Wrigley Field bleachers and who used to live over a bar is going to be the owner.  Hey, if I married every lubed up skank I picked up in the Wrigley bleachers, I would have had to move to Utah or Jonestown by now.

The truth is that we won’t know if this guy is a good owner or not for a long time.  Unless he kicks Crane Kenney out on his ass on day one, that would be a nice start.

Another nice start would be to tear down the ballpark except for those precious (and thoroughly overrated) bleachers and start over, but as the effinitely named Blair Kamin noted today, that can’t happen either.  I like Wrigley, I think Wrigley is cool, but it’s a charming dump, just one I wish was heavier on the charming and lighter on the dump.  Oh, well, fixing it up isn’t my problem.  Trying to find a place to pee in it (other than on the main concourse near a drainage grate) is still mine, though.