Mike Celizic

Lou Piniella is a great baseball man who lacks two things. One is patience. The other is a tolerance for losing.

Those lacks did not serve him well in Tampa, where until this year, the organizational byword was patience and the only thing the team did really well was lose baseball games.

But they’ve been a perfect fit for his latest job, and after his Cubs polished off the White Sox, sweeping the Battle of Chicago over the weekend and shutting up Ozzie Guillen, Piniella has a team that’s been hit by one injury after another sitting atop not just the NL Central, but all of baseball.

It’s quite an accomplishment and yet more proof that Piniella knows his way around a baseball field. And if you’re a Cub fan, you have to be happy he decided to give managing one more shot after he walked away from Tampa Bay three years ago at the age of 61. He had gone to Florida, where he makes his home, with hopes of leading the young team formerly known as the Devil Rays to respectability. When it turned out that the irascible Piniella and a team of kids didn’t mix, he was supposed to retire to put his feet up and never kick dirt or throw a base in anger again.

A year went by, which he spent getting paid to offer analysis and commentary on television and trying to enjoy the sunset. But the one sunset he couldn’t wrap his mind around was the one on his career. So when the Cubs came calling two years ago, he pulled on a baseball uniform again, just as he has been doing nearly every summer for more than 40 years. And he took over the most frustrating and disappointing team in baseball.

That was last year, and by mid-June he had to wonder what in the name of cut fastballs he’d gotten himself into. It all hit the fan on June 11, 2007 when his ace pitcher, Carlos Zambrano, got in a fist fight in the dugout during a game with his catcher, Michael Barrett. Barrett called for a jab and Zambrano crossed him up with a hook, splitting his catcher’s lip.

The Cubs were in second place in the NL Central at the time, their record a less-than-sterling 28-34. They were tied for second place in the division, 5.5 games behind the Brewers.

After the game, Piniella had the people who insert bleeps in interview tapes working overtime.

"It's about time some of them start playing like major leaguers,” he ranted. “Or, get somebody else in here that can catch the damn ball or run the bases properly,” he raved. “Go fight the other team if you have to. Amongst yourselves? It happens, but it really shouldn't.”

It sounded more than ironic coming from the guy who got in a fight with one of his own relief pitchers, Rob Dibble, in 1992 when he was managing the Cincinnati Reds. Even then, Sweet Lou had long since joined Earl Weaver, the old Orioles manager, and Billy Martin as one of the all-time worst scourges of umpires the game had ever seen. And here he was having to tell grown men how to behave in public.