My feelings on Chicago’s minor-league baseball club have been made known in this space before, so we’ll skip on the whole self-loathing/visible outward contempt/unjustifiable false hope rants for now. But I found myself driving home yesterday afternoon and, for the first time this year, was rewarded with the sweet sweet dueling sounds of Ed Farmer’s fresh-out-of-hibernation grizzle and Ron Santo’s two hours of whatever and non sequitirs just up the dial.

So as the Sox got to simultaneously clobbering the Dodgers and Cubs like so many nemeses-turned-teammates in batting practice, it was hard not to smile at the nicety of the afternoon.

Yes, they were a pair of hollow victories, as both of those National League teams will be terrible if all goes according to profit margin-maximizing plan. Yes, Ron Santo’s predictions quickly went from endearing (“I think Ryan Theriot is going to be a solid ballplayer for a long time”) to just flat-out ridiculous (“I have to think Aramis Ramirez will go into the Hall of Fame as a Cub”). Yes, Farmer sure got a jump on complaining about the umpires this year and yes, there was all kinds of laughable non-baseball happening as the B-team and JV backup squads hit the diamond.

But at the core, what was really happening?

• Ron Santo revealed Pat Hughes as the most underpaid man in baseball.
• Ed Farmer couldn’t rage on enough.
• The Cubs, despite the addition of Carlos “Unhittable” Silva, are still a lousy team.
• The Sox, even if only in a way that doesn’t really count, were playing winning baseball.

Many miles from here, the sun shone and the Sox won. Carlos Quentin was a home run hero and Greg Aquino was the greatest pitcher alive, while the Cubs went home in non-binding shame and the voices of the everyman raged on. Baseball was back, even if baseball wasn’t really happening.