Bet on this: The Chicago Cubs' new manager, Bruce Kimm, will be booed on Sunday. Loudly. He may as well prepare himself now.

Kimm has only been heading the hapless Cubs for three games since replacing Don Baylor on July 5. But on Sunday afternoon, in the final game of his inaugural homestand as skipper against the Marlins, Kimm is going to get an earful from the Wrigley fans.

	The newly crowned King of Chicago.

That's because, at some point, Kimm is going to take Mark Prior out of the game. Prior could be pitching seven innings of shutout ball, he could have 14 strikeouts, but Kimm will have to grab the ball from his prized hurler. He'll grimace, motion toward the Cubs' comically futile bullpen, and cross his fingers. And the fans will howl.

That's because Mark Prior is the Northside Messiah. And in the mind of a Wrigley bleacher creature, messiahs pitch nine strong every time.

But the Cubs have other plans. This kid will be their ace for the next decade. So in his first go-round, especially with his team hopelessly out of contention, there will be no taxing this golden arm. Once Prior reaches 100 pitches, the bullpen phone starts jangling. Because for the Cubs' brass, this is about the long term.

"The fans expect great things from him, no doubt," says GM Jim Hendry. "But we know how good Mark can be. We've got a plan for him, and we're not going to deviate from that."

Baylor got used to the boos before he got canned. "This kid is going to be a franchise pitcher very soon," Baylor said. "So to ruin his arm by having him throw 140 pitches? Even if I'm gone, that's something I don't want on my resume."

Baylor is indeed gone -- but his resume does not include the destruction of Mark Prior. And the Cubs' M.O. for M.P. remains the same, even as Wrigley fans cringe at the thought of another circus middle relief performance.

Every time pitching coach Larry Rothschild goes to the bullpen to monitor Prior's warm-ups before a start, fans scream at him. "Screw the pitch counts!" they say. "Let the kid throw!" Rothschild ignores them, but they get even louder when Prior gets sent to the showers. "Fans' expectations are okay if they motivate a player and give him energy," Rothschild says. "But they can also wear you down."

The Cubs have been in this situation before. Four years ago, they had a stud pitcher, just like Prior, whom fans never wanted to see pulled from a game. Then Kerry Wood blew out his elbow and missed the next season. Still, from his experience, Wood learned a little about the demands of Chi-town fans. "I could be at 165 pitches," Wood says, "and [then-manager] Jim Riggleman would still get booed when he left the dugout."

It's unfair to say the Cubs learned their lesson about how to bring along young pitchers from Wood -- famed reconstructor Dr. James Andrews will tell you that his elbow would have blown anyway -- but there's still no reason to take a chance. So the Cubs and Kimm are willing to risk some jeers, because they know Prior is one hell of a meal ticket. Not only does a healthy Prior give them a down payment on success in the future, but he also helps reel in some extra scrill now -- the Cubs pawn his autographed baseballs for $89.95 on their Web site.

Prior's on everybody's mind in The Windy City -- talk with Cubs president Andy MacPhail and you'll think he never learned the word "before." When he talks, it's always "Prior to the draft" and "Prior to meeting Mark."

Of course, Prior's just a kid. Once his upper body grows into his tank-like lower half, he'll be positively Clemens-like -- 245 pounds of badass on the mound. And for now, it's up to the Cubs to take care of him and make sure he gets to that point.

That might mean Bruce Kimm has to buy himself some earplugs.

Andy Latack covers baseball for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at andrew.latack@espnpub.com