Well, Bill Simmons has done it again.

Just as I was trying to come up with the words to sum up my feelings about the 2004 Cubs season, The Sports Guy posted a column today about the Red Sox, where he hit almost every point I eventually would have made, if I could have sorted out in my brain myself.

He did the same thing last October, with this piece, written after the Red Sox blew Game 7 against the Yankees. Here’s what he had to say back then:

Hey, this is my team. I came to grips with that a long time ago. They're part of my life. Sometimes they lift me to a higher place. Sometimes they punch me in the stomach and leave me for dead. There's no rhyme or reason. And there are thousands and thousands of diehards just like me, all trapped in that same bad marriage, united by our experiences and memories.

Of course, he had a bunch of other stuff to say to, which I recommend for any baseball fan. Just like I recommend today’s piece, which starts with this Billy Joel lyric:

She cuts you once, she cuts you twice
But still you believe
The wound is so fresh you can taste the blood
But you don't have strength to leave.

The 2004 Cubs and Red Sox are not as similar as the 2003 editions. The 2004 Red Sox are likable. The 2004 Cubs have Kent Mercker and LaTroy Hawkins. The 2004 Red Sox had the services of Pedro Martinez and Curt Schilling all year. The 2004 Cubs had to make do while Mark Prior and Kerry Wood missed way too many starts (I know, no tears shed for a team that had Carlos Zambrano as it’s fifth starter coming out of Spring Training, but still). I could go on.

But what I think is happening, to me, anyway, is that Cubs fans are starting to see what happens to the good-but-not-great teams. See, every year of my life, no one really expected the Cubs to do anything. And if they did predict success, the team had usually coughed it up by the All-Star break, or at least my birthday (Aug. 13).

This year was different. After last season ended (I still remember the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach), Cubs fans realized something: We were going to be better this year. Why? Well, Prior, Wood, Zambrano and Matt Clement were coming back. We’d have Corey Patterson and Aramis Ramirez for the whole season. Then the acquisitions started, first Derrek Lee and then Greg Maddux. Along the way, other bits and pieces fell into place, like Todd Hollandsworth and Michael Barrett. How could this not be our year? I’m 25, and there is no doubt this is the best Cubs roster of my lifetime.

Well, you know the story. Injuries and the St. Louis Cardinals conspired to put this Cubs team in its current position – tied for the Wild Card with five games to play (four, if you account for the fact that they’re playing the Reds right now, up 2-1 heading into the ninth and just awaiting another Hawkins implosion). Sure, more than half the teams in the league would like to be here right now.

But for the Cubs it was supposed to be different. We were supposed to use this last week to coast, resting Moises Alou’s tired knees and setting the rotation for the playoffs. Instead, we drop two of three at Shea over the weekend and suddenly it could all be over. But then again, why shouldn’t the Cubs win out?

It’s like Simmons says today:

Everything has changed. Nothing has changed. I don't want to go through this again. I can't live without it. I'm not sure I can handle it. I couldn't imagine any other way.

.I can’t tell if I want the Cubs to make the playoffs or not. Obviously I do, but I can’t handle the heartbreak. Last year everything was so surreal, I couldn’t imagine being disappointed. Plus, they hadn’t had a real chance in the postseason since 1984, so even the misery represented a giant improvement over the status quo. But, in the late innings of Game 6, I let myself believe the Cubs were going to the World Series. The next thing I knew, the Marlins began to rally and the Cubs accomplished the rare baseball feat of losing two games in one inning (for reference, see: Mets vs. Red Sox, Game 6, World Series, 1986).

This year, I don’t know what to think. I haven’t been living and dying with every game down the stretch, maybe because I haven’t fully healed from 2003. I had from 1998 to last October to prepare, so I was more than ready. Maybe 12 months just isn’t enough.

And, as expected… Hawkins just blew the save. Tied at two with a runner on second, now we need to go to extra innings just for the chance to keep pace with the Giants. I can’t say I’m surprised. I gave too much of myself last year, now I can’t trust this team, especially after seeing how many winnable games faded away all season. I know this team has more wins than last year’s, that Wood and Prior are well-rested for the playoffs. But this three-game series against the Braves has all the makings of a collapse for the ages.

Either way, at the end of play Sunday, I’ll have to come up with a total change in attitude. Any pessimism I have now will probably evaporate. That will come quicker if the Cubs make the playoffs, but not so much if I have to try to get excited about 2005.

I really don’t know what to think. This is why baseball is the king of sports, because it delivers something every day, every pitch. None of this waiting two weeks for the Super Bowl business. This kind of drama is why I love the sport, and yet it kills me slowly with each passing day.

Go Cubs Go.