CHICAGO — I was sitting in the parking lot of the Jewel-Osco on Friday morning when my iPhone started pinging madly.
Somehow I inadvertently had been added to an unknown group text string labeled CHI BASE OPS, along with two individuals with the initials JH and CG.
It seemed like a frank discussion of the upcoming Chicago baseball seasons for the Cubs and White Sox, but because I was unable to verify the authenticity of the group chat, I’ve decided to simply post the transcript and let the readers decide what is real and what’s not.
11:45 a.m. TEAM UPDATE
JH: Yo. Are we clean?
CG: Clean. Just us, dude. Congrats on the domestic opener. Watched Bulls-Lakers on the antenna last night, but I heard you won.
JH: Giddey!
CG: Giddey!
JH: Congrats on yours. Anyone show up for the opener?
CG: (Redacted). Almost a sellout, man. And at least they watch the games down here, unlike a certain playground for the (redacted) that I know of. LOL.
JH: Whatever. So what’s your new mission statement? The Impossible Dream 2.0 begins?
CG: Nah. Rebuild 101. Stole your Godfather’s plan. Told the beat writers we wouldn’t lose 122 this time. Hey, we’re 1-0.
JH: Great plan. Done it a couple times. Godfather knows best.
CG: Honestly, I feel good. Great bunch. NO CRAZIES. No expectations. Our fans blame the Boss, not me. Stoked, dude.
JH: Seriously?
CG: Seriously. So what’s your mission statement?
JH: Going with the “Playoffs or Bust” thing from 2021. Marketing wanted the “We Didn’t Come Here for a Haircut” campaign from ’16, but that didn’t test well with Gen Z.
CG: Figures. (Redacted) kids.
JH: True. But I feel good too. We’ll do it. And if not, someone you see at your favorite Winnetka Starbucks may soon be asking you for a little spare change for a Caramel Macchiato with soy milk.
CG: You’ll get a nice tribute video though.
JH: 100 percent emoji. But if we make it, they gotta stay the course. Four more years of The Plan, right?
CG: Confirmed. Sounds like The Plan is a plan for life. You’re my idle, dude.
CG: Idol. Sorry. Spellcheck.
JH: Appreciate you. Come over to the mansion sometime, maybe watch a Bulls play-in game in the Executive Man Cave.
CG: You got the antenna?
JH: Dude, I got THREE RINGS. I don’t need to watch sports on a stinking antenna.
TE: Hey, guys, please take me off this group chat. Been gone five freaking years now. Not cool.
JH: Sorry, Godfather. Forgot you retired.
CG: Sorry. Removed.
JH: We clean?
CG: Clean. What’s he doing now since the pitch clock anyways?
JH: Beats me. How’s your brackets?
CG: (Redacted). And yours?
JH: Not bad. Still got Duke. Fingers crossed emoji.
CG: I still got the Bulls, as long as the antenna works.
JH: Giddey!
CG: Giddey!
AK: Giddey!
JH: AK? Wrong group chat, dude. This is Baseball Ops only.
AK: Oh, sorry. Goodbye, fellows.
JH: See ya, AK.
JH: Removed. Clean?
CG: Clean.
JH: Yo, are you sure this app is encrypted?
CG: Yeah, our analytics department checked it out. We’re so encrypted its like we’re talking under the Cone of Silence.
JH: OK.
CG: Jet lag gone?
JH: Haven’t slept in two weeks, man.
CG: Yeah, that’s a long flight, dude.
JH: Not the flight. Just my Seasonal Bullpen Anxiety Disorder. Happens every spring around roster decision time.
CG: Oh, SBAD? That’s a nightmare. Stay hydrated, and avoid the fourth estate types at all costs.
JH: 100 percent emoji. Been on a CHARM OFFENSIVE all spring. They bought it. LOL. Fire emoji.
CG: The Godfather taught you well.
JH: Confirmed. How’s the milkshake business looking?
CG: Great. Selling our ballpark as a foodie destination where baseball ...
