In 1964 the Cubs traded Lou Brock to the Cardinals for someone so insignificant I'm not going to even Google it.

That was the worst thing the Cubs did until they unveiled their latest concession offering.

You see that picture? Gross. Don't get me wrong, I love hot dogs. I love pizza more than just about every other person I've met. But what was wrong with enjoying them by themselves? What's next? Nacho cheeze (TM) on your Dippin' Dots? A Cracker Jack stuffed pretzel? Actually that last one doesn't sound so bad.

Why are they doing this? Last time I checked a Cubs ticket was about the hardest thing to get in Chicago outside of a free parking space in Wrigleyville. Who is going to Wrigley Field to get the latest gastro-molecular concoction?

Bottom line is this makes me nervous. I was ok when Schwarber blew out his knee. I didn't flinch when Heyward decided to leave his bat in St. Louis. I didn't even mind they had a little slump right before the All-Star break. But this? This is basically a black cat crossed with a goat sitting inside of Alex Gonzalez' glove. Terrifying.

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