I am a Chicago native. Grew up on the southside in what used to be a pretty interesting ethnic area, which has since gone adrift. Family then moved on to the south suburbs.
My very first professional baseball experience was with my grandfather, who took me to see the White Sox. Explained the game, described the players and gave me a tour of Comiskey Park. He also taught me about the evils of the team from the north side, and why I should never be a Cub fan
The White Sox lost to the Red Sox that day, but that is not my strongest memory. I remember that first hot dog being the absolute best hot dog I had ever had ... I remember the popcorn, and the lady in front of us who smuggled me a chocolate bar ... I remember the usher, who seemed 7 feet tall, smiling and telling me to be ready with my glove because there are always foul balls and that I was in a prime seat to get one (probably not true, but got me excited beyond belief) ... and I remember the warm smile of my grandad as he explained as we left "well, can't win 'em all ... maybe next time we're here they can come back ...", though there would be no next time as my grandad was dead from a heart attack that fall.
Fast forward to the 70's, and Chuck Tanner, who managed a very average ball club almost to the AL West Title with only the bat of Dick Allen as a true offensive weapon, and the jitterbugging knuckleball of Wilbur Wood going 13-3 before the All Star break. Then Bill Veeck with his 'rent-a-player' approach to team building, giving us the "South Side Hitmen" ... Richie Zisk and Oscar Gamble blasting moon shot home runs ... players trying to make comebacks doing so as a member of the Sox with Eric Solderholm being the best reclamation project .... Ralph Garr running crazy patterns under each fly ball hit to left, making every catch an adventure.
Then the 80's, I was stationed in Germany and avidly following a White Sox team that actually looked to be the favorite to win the AL, only to lose in heartbreaking fashion to the Orioles in the playoffs.
The sadness of the strike year, when the White Sox WERE the cream of the AL, only to see the entire season be flushed by naked greed from both the owners and the players.
Now this. A White Sox team that has flaws yes, but has a spirit you can almost feel through the tv .... a confident aggression, instilled by their rough around the edges, but very baseball savvy, manager ... a White Sox team with the best record in baseball, and who does not give any indication of folding like a cheap suit as previous promising Sox teams have done in the heat of August.
Yes ... I am happy to be a Sox fan ... they are my team, warts and all, even though their ownership group is seemingly trying to rival that of the Bears for dumbest front office in Chicago.
And as I smile about my team's success, I laugh at the continued floundering of those on the northside ... because that is how my grandad would have wanted it.