As Cubs fans drowsily filtered out of Wrigley Field Sunday, the sun ricocheting off their overtly creased hat brims, the beer soaked through their Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirts, they could be excused for mumbling profanities under their breath. After all, hadn't Chicago Tribune columnist emeritus Bob Verdi just penned a piece about the Cubs playing in the 2001 World Series?

Everyone is allowed to dream.

So when Cub backers, trying to digest a three-game sweep by the Brewers, plunged out of Wrigley's packed bleachers and into the dense crowd of Chicago's nearby Gay Pride Parade, it wasn't the Series they were thinking of. Instead, it was probably more like, "Crap ... how long is Clark gonna be backed up from this?"

Allow me that most temporary and reflexive of conditions: gloating. The Brewers had never before swept the Cubs at Wrigley Field, and their four consecutive wins over the North Siders are also a franchise first. The Crew may never move closer than 4 1/2 games behind the Cubs -- a viable playoff team notwithstanding the weekend's events -- but I can carry a broom around Addison/Clark wearing an "M" cap this week just the same.

Cubs fans cheer as NASDAQ prices are announced on the Wrigley PA system

Let me introduce you to Cubs fans as I know them. They cry of long-suffering fanhood, yet most are 23 years old. They are usually affluent -- either traders, advertising types or consultants -- and find no fault with spilling other people's $4.75 Old Styles. They are quick with a White Sox joke and even quicker with a gay-bash. They are, by and large, irksome, and I am enjoying their reticence this morning.

Sammy Sosa might be a great player, but I would still call him stupid were he a Brewer thrown out trying for third with nobody out in the seventh rather than whine about the call. Kerry Wood will haunt the National League for years, but shouldn't most of the people who consider him to be the next Walter Johnson -- if they are aware of who that particular pitcher is -- have an inkling that Jack Brickhouse preceded Haray Caray in the Cub broadcast booth? And, oh, how I wish Glenallen Hill could have seen this day in Cub pinstripes. Somewhere in Chicagoland, the phrase "Glenallen is incredible!" still graces an ignorant Cubs fans lips.

Have you caught my collective drift? It is entirely personal in this series, one of the unmitigated positives of the Brewers' switch to the National League in 1998. Nothing sears into my sporting conscious like a Cubs fan cheering on a win in Miller Park (or talking about how "lame" County Stadium was); nothing soothes the inner beast like Ben Sheets hanging his third win on the same down Wrigley way.

Not every Cub fan is an idiot, and just as many Brewer fans certainly are. In fact, I'll go as far as saying that Wrigley denizens are a better-looking lot than Miller dwellers. Still, most Cubs fans I run across in Chicago and elsewhere -- oh, and everyone on the planet is a Cubs fan during years like this one -- tend toward idiocy. That is a simple fact. Don't make me pull out my journal detailing the instances.

My favorite and shortest example occurred during the first ever interleague game between the teams at Wrigley in June 1997. I chose to wear a Brewers shirt to the park. Upon taking my seat, a high-minded Cubbie fan looked at me squarely and said "The Brewers suck!" in far too loud of a voice for my proximity. The Brewers suck? I smirked at him and sat down without reply. He was dumbstruck by a lack of return fire to his verbal barrage.

More: They show stock quotes on the miniature scoreboard in center field during Wrigley day games. While most Cub backers talk about how they keep it real at the ivy-enclosed playground -- they have an old-timey scoreboard, don't you know??!! -- nearly all do so while on their cell phones. Within vomiting distance of the park's gates are bars with names like Cubby Bear, Slugger's and John Barleycorn's. I'm not truly sure what that signifies, but it amuses me nonetheless.

Fans, by their very nature, are morons. To claim exemption from that group or its definition would be a personal lie. But, today, right now, I'm looking down my nose at those wearing Cub blue. And ... EXCUSE ME ... you just spilled your beer on my Brett Favre shirt. You think they're giving these things away??? Jeez, some people really are idiots.