I’ll take this White Sox championship anyway. It was damn fine to see this batch of players take it all the way. They embody everything you don’t see in sports anymore, guys who put the team ahead of their own needs, who play the game for the love of it, who stick together and don’t point fingers. These are clichés only because they are true. If it was possible to buy team chemistry, don’t you think every team would play this well? (Maybe someday we will be able to buy team chemistry—time will tell.)
The Sox have gotten short shrift ever since I moved to Chicago 23 years ago. They weren’t the “loveable losers” during their lean years—they were just regular losers. The fans didn’t embrace them for their effort—they voiced their anger with their mouths and their feet, by staying away from the stadium. They’ve played second fiddle in town through most of their existence. And now they’re on top, and it’s a gorgeous thing.
Looks like Alderman Burke and I are on the same page about the sirens. You know you’re getting old when you start agreeing with Ed Burke.