Well, it’s finally here: Opening Day for the White Sox, although it’s on the road in Texas. It’s always wonderful to reach this day because I love baseball season and the game itself, and it signals the beginning of another spring and summer filled with hope, fun, and disappointment–mostly disappointment. Whatever the feeling, though, it’s baseball time once more!
I watched the whole game today as the Sox took on the Rangers, last year’s American League representatives in the World Series, and I wasn’t too upset even though the Sox lost, 3-2. Lots of changes have taken place, but it’s still the White Sox and I can root for no other. My allegiance goes back to the late 1950s, so I’ve been down many a road with many a White Sox team that promised, yet didn’t really deliver. Regardless, I hung with them all the same.
Converesely, there’s that lovable loser ball club on the north side that has, for whatever reason, endeared itself to a great majority of followers, content to faun over them ad infintitum. I still know not what their infernal attraction is, but I can never follow them, nor do I have any interest in their success as each season winds along. For me, it’s always been the White Sox–through the good and the bad.
According to most “experts” in the Chicago media, there’s really no reason whatsoever to put any faith in the White Sox this year. According to them, the Sox are sure to be total losers and quite distant from any kind of challenge to winning their division, not worth much at all. However, I can’t agree, being a Sox fan and having witnessed other minor miracles through the years. True, this year’s team doesn’t have a Dick Allen or Bill Melton, a Wilbur Wood or a Terry Forster. They don’t even have the Big White Machine to fire up and explode around the ballpark between games of a doubleheader (remember those?). The many moments at Old Comiskey continue to echo about in one’s memory, and will be forever etched in the minds of all of us who had the pleasure (?) of being there for them.
The current White Sox? We shall see exactly what they do have! All I know is…it’s baseball time again. Time for Ed Farmer and Darren Jackson to keep me company all summer on my little black radio up there in Michigan as I sip another cold one on the porch late into a Michigan night or make my way around the lake on my pontoon. It’s all good! Go, go, go, White Sox…