. . . or what else would we have to talk about in Chicago sports these days?

Quick:  when was the last time a Stanley Cup Finals featured two Original Six teams?

We’re a couple of major steps from having that happen, but wouldn’t it be neat if it did this season?  To wit:

1. The Bruins would have to beat Philadelphia tonight to insure an Original Six team would represent the Eastern Conference.  If the Flyers win, then the Canadiens would have to beat them in the conference finals.
2. The Blackhawks would have to beat San Jose.

As for the latter, the Hawks are a better team than the Sharks.  But who’s to say which Hawks team will show up on any given afternoon/night—the one that manhandled the Canucks all three games in Vancouver or played totally uninspired hockey in both home losses during the series?

Still, I’m feeling good about the whole thing.  Rick’s pick:  Blackhawks in seven.

I’m not going to use the word “choke” because, at the highest level of professional athletics, I’m not convinced it ever happens, but the Bruins’ dropping four in a row to lose their round with the Flyers is a collapse of mammoth proportions, far exceeding the ‘69  or ‘03 Cubs or ‘64 Phillies.

It’s a dirty rotten shame that the network playoff practices currently in place are keeping Pat Foley out of the broadcast booth from here on out.

In baseball, we’re one month into the season, and I’ve already seen three things I’ve never witnessed in 41 years of watching the game:

1. Mark Buehrle’s between-the-legs desperation toss to Paul Konerko to nail the Indians’ Lou Marson at first on Opening Day.
2. Marlon Byrd’s no-look behind-the-back catch.
3. Starlin Castro driving in an MLB record six runs in his very first game.  (Know how hard it is to break an MLB record anymore?  The game’s been around forever, and most benchmarks are out of reach.)

I’m getting the impression that Jim Hendry is much better at solving problems than avoiding them.  Unloading Todd Hundley and getting Mark Grudzielanek and Eric Karros in 2002, for example.  And sending Milton Bradley to Seattle for Carlos Silva this past winter.  But who backed the Cubs into the financial corner they find themselves in right now with those untradeable contracts (Soriano, Fukudome, Zambrano)?

Of the top five highest payrolls in MLB (Yankees, Red Sox, Cubs, Phillies, Mets), which team is the one most obviously underperforming?  And the Cubs are likely stuck for the next couple years, because they can’t take on any significant salary.

So, which of the Chicago baseball teams will be the first to reach .500?  Will either?  At that point in the season, will we even care?

(The last Cup Finals to feature two Original Six teams was 32 years ago:  1978-1979, when the Canadiens defeated the Rangers in 5 games.)

Some quick hits as we approach the mid-season mark . . .

No matter who wins today, the Cubs and Sox have been amazingly evenly matched since interleague play began in 1997.  Of the 70 games that have been played:

The White Sox have 35 wins and the Cubs have 35.

The White Sox have scored 344 runs, the Cubs, 341.

Neither team can claim true bragging rights.  For that to happen, one team is going to have to dominate the series for several years in a row.

I had to chuckle when I read Toni Ginnetti’s column yesterday in the Sun-Times describing a Cubs’ pitcher as “young Randy Wells.”  Randy might be young compared to me or you, Toni, but he’ll be 27 in August and only a year younger than Carlos Zambrano, and I haven’t heard anyone refer to him as “young Carlos Zambrano” in a long time.

Between late May and mid June, in 22 games, Alfonso Soriano was 14 for 99, a .141 average.  Since Soriano bats leadoff, it’s like hitting your pitcher first in the order–for 22 games.  Worse yet, since Soriano followed the #9 hitter in the batting order each time except for the first inning, it was like having TWO pitchers hitting back to back for 22 games.  And you wonder why you’re not scoring runs?

Can we give Jim Hendry anything but a failing grade for the moves he made in the off-season?  Has there been a single one that’s worked out?  Let’s look at ‘em all:

Kevin Gregg.  Anybody out there feel confident when Gregg comes into a game?  Maybe you remember last August 15 in Florida.  The Marlins had a 5-3 lead against the Cubs going into the top of the 9^th.  He came into the game for Florida, and this is what happened:

DeRosa led off and Gregg walked him.

Fontenot grounded out.

Johnson singled.

Daryle Ward sent one over the rightfield wall off Gregg, giving the visiting Cubs a 6-5 lead. 

It turned out to be Gregg’s 7^th blown save of 2008.  He says he was hampered by a sore left knee at the time. Today, his knee problems are supposedly behind him. 

But look at the events that transpired that inning.  How many times have we seen him blow a lead and a save in nearly the same fashion this season—on a healthy knee?

Milton Bradley.  Easily the worst free agent signing in all of baseball this off-season.

Aaron Heilman.  “Better than Bobby Howry” is about all you can say.  Talk about damning with faint praise.

Aaron Miles.  The definition of a spare part, with limited versatility in the field and no pop in his bat.  His value is debatable when he’s hitting .300.  Where he is today, at .200, he’s worthless.

Joey Gathright.  Signed as a free agent.  Lasted a month with the team. Had an OPS of .481 (!) when he was traded.  By the way, he was traded for . . .

Ryan Freel, who, incredibly enough, has an even lower OPS than Gathright, .297. 

David Patton.  Always the last man out of the bullpen, he forces Lou to overuse everybody else.  He’s certainly not an improvement over Michael Wuertz,whom they traded this off-season.

Koyie Hill.  Is all we can say about him, “better than Paul Bako?”  And he isn’t by much. 

Luis Vizcaino.  Gone.  For nothing in return.  Garrett Olson.  Flipped for Aaron Heilman.

Which leaves us with the one good move he’s made since last October:

Micah Hoffpauir.  Replaced Daryle Ward. 

I’ve been a big fan of Jim Hendry’s since he took over the GM role in 2002.  I’m sure he’d be the first to tell you this hasn’t been a good nine months for him.

On the bookshelf in my office sit some of the greatest books ever written on baseball:  Ball Four, The Boys of Summer, The Long Season, October 1964, Weaver on Strategy.  I can tell you right now:  none of them was any more eye-opening than As They See ‘Em, a new book written by New York Times reporter Bruce Weber (Simon & Schuster, 2009).  I definitely view the game through different eyes now.

As They See ‘Em is a book about umpiring which, it turns out, is a terribly difficult job.  The author spent nearly three years preparing to write the book.  First, he attended Jim Evans’ umpiring school in Florida, then hit the road with a crew of minor league umpires.  He worked Little League and major league spring training.  He interviewed dozens of current and former major league umpires.  Through it all, there was a single undeniable theme:  umpiring in an isolating, thankless, exhausting job.  And, to top it off, among those who choose to follow its career path, Weber reveals over 90% never make it to the big leagues.

What could make the job so hard?  After all, it’s simply a matter of memorizing the rule book, right?  Of course, learning and being able to apply the rule book are the foundations of umpiring.  But there’s also a huge physical component to the job.  Being able to station yourself in just the right position on the field to have an optimal view of a play in order to make the proper call is just as important.  I learned that every batted ball puts at least two umpires in motion, scurrying to that ideal spot to observe the play, something I can’t help noticing whenever I watch a game now.   And how about the home plate umpire, who is required to repeatedly bend over, squat and then stand up on average 400 times in a single game? 

Then there’s the mental aspect, which is just as grueling as the physical part.  Think of some of the most vehement arguments that you’ve seen erupt at a ballgame.  The dropped third strike in game two of the 2005 ALCS, with A.J. Pierzynski running to first.  The fan Jeffrey Maier interfering with a fly ball in the 1996 ALCS.  George Brett and the pine tar incident.  The missed call at first in game six of the 1985 World Series between the Cardinals and Royals.   You’ll get to relive each of those hotly debated situations through the umpires who were unwittingly caught in the middle of them:  Doug Eddings, Richie Garcia, Tim McClelland and Don Denkinger.

I had a hard time putting down As They See ‘Em.  In fact, I finished the book in one weekend.  It’s that engrossing.  And it made clear to me there really should be law against yelling out a certain phrase that, unfortunately, has been a part of the national pastime since the beginning.  You know the one.  “Kill the umpire.” 

*Umpires, as a rule, despise being called “Blue.”  

I can’t believe we’re still talking about the Blackhawks.  This is May, right?  This is easily the biggest sports story in Chicago in years, the biggest turnaround by a Chicago sports franchise in my lifetime.  I only wish my dad were around to see it.

Unlike my friends’ dads, mine really wasn’t into sports.  But, when it came to the Blackhawks, my dad would be the first to grab the prime spot in front of the old black and white set we had in our family room.  He’d be there, shoes off and feet up, all set for the opening face-off for every televised game (we didn’t have many of those back then, you might recall).  Whenever the Hawks would be playing at home, he’d have the radio turned up at high volume, and the magnificent play-by-play of Lloyd Pettit would reverberate throughout not only his workshop downstairs but the entire basement.

I became a Blackhawk fan at the same time Tony Esposito arrived on the scene in 1969.  Tony and his 15 shutouts were a sensation that year.  My father, however, never hesitated to remind me that Glenn Hall was even a better goalie, how “he was a big guy who filled the entire net,” leaving opposing shooters little room to score on him.

My dad and I had few common interests, it turned out.  But we had the Blackhawks.  The Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita, Pat Stapleton, Doug Jarrett, Pit Martin Blackhawks.  He and I attended only one sporting event together.  Fittingly, it was a Blackhawks game at the old Chicago Stadium, as exciting a night as I ever shared with my dad.

Who knows how far the Hawks will go in the playoffs this year?  It doesn’t really matter to me.  Call me a fair-weather fan if you’d like, since I haven’t rooted for them in a long time, but my interest in the Blackhawks has been rekindled this year.  And every game I watch puts me right on the couch with my dad, our emotions rising and falling with each goal scored or given up.  That’s made this season even more remarkable to me.