CHICAGO -- We've long moved past the sympathy-for-the-lovable-losers stage. Now, the Cubs must be treated like any other patient with an acute mental illness: send them to the funny farm, load them up on Prozac, lock them in a rubberized room and hope they don't kill each other. It was only a matter of time, I suppose, before this forlorn franchise collapsed from the burden of a 101-year drought without a World Series title.Still, who knew the Cubbies would crack up and go utterly mad?




