Win or Die Trying

Ain't that the truth? Anyone who saw the Chicago White Sox in any of their post season glory could see that their mantra, "Win or Die Trying" is so much more than words. I've been a baseball watcher all of my life. From my Spring and Summer afternoons and evenings watching my brother and my friends to visiting the imploded King Dome to see the Seattle Mariners. We cheered our hearts out long before Griffey, A-Rod, The Big Unit, Pinella and Ichiro. In fact, I had already moved away by the time the Mariners got really hot and a beautiful new facility, Safeco Field. I lived in Delaware where I could either be a Phillies fan or an Orioles fan, I chose neither and still clung to Seattle. I lived in Boulder, CO. As IF I would cheer for the stupid ole Rockies. In fact, being from Seattle I don't believe I'm allowed to root for any Denver teams. Then in 1998 I moved to the city of Chicago and I learned very quickly that I had to make choice. While I'd never lose my allegiance to the Mariners, I knew without cable I'd never see a game and I'm not going to read the confusing sports stats. So unless the Mariners made national headlines, I had to align myself with the Northside Cubs or the South Side Sox.
I never lived in a city with two teams but I could see how "friendly rivalries" would be in existence. I had no idea how extreme these fans were. My first apartment was just north of Wrigleyville. So close that I could hear the din of the crowds from my back deck. I thought it was cool to be near such a legendary field and was fortunate enough to be invited by a classmate to a game. Apparently all the guys in the class were busy, but I was the first girl on the list. This game was oversold because it was the end of the legendary season of the homerun battle between Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa. In fact, they were presenting Sammy with a car that day. That was an exciting moment, I think. I mean I couldn't see anything but a sea of Sosa jerseys so I was just going by sound. We eventually snagged some seats as the crowd emptied and I got to bear witness to my first Cubs loss.

It turns out the Cubs lost A LOT. I was no stranger to baseball loses, helllllooooo the Mariners, but to lose and lose year after year and get sold out crowds? Never in Seattle, never, never, never. I was thinking, though, this has to be more than fan loyalty to these "lovable losers" than the players themselves. I was beginning to think that it may have to do with the legendary field. Further it had to do with demographics. Wrigleyville and the surrounding neighborhoods are full of post-college frat boys and Trixie girls who start flocking to the field come Spring time to get wasted and score. This wasn't about baseball to a lot of attendees, it was an excuse to get fall down drunk and try to have sex. For me I thought the whole experience was crowded, smelly, annoying, expensive and tan.

It was abundantly clear that my Northside world was dominated by Cubs fans. Since I have a natural aversion to groups and a piteous heart I started getting a soft spot for the White Sox. Plus they were an American League team and would be playing the Mariners. My first game at the former Comisky was a totally different experience. There were no oppressive crowds, the food was phenomenally better in taste, portion and variety, the bathrooms were nicer, the people were normal and appeared to be there to watch some ball. Deeeeeelightful. I made my choice based on my American League bias, my comfort and enjoyment at former Comisky, and more importantly I felt the Sox deserved a fan base like the loser Cubs had.

I figured since I was a transplant I didn't have to be so militant about my fanhood. I still rooted for the Mariners and watched both the Cubs and the Sox. Actually, I couldn't get away from it as I had no cable and WGN exists. When the Cubs went to the playoffs in 2003 it was exciting. It was like catching a fever. I am one of the most easily influenced people I know,(You should have seen what happened to me at an Amway meeting.)so it was inevitable that I would be right there watching the games and rooting for the Cubs. Then they lost. Then the fans blamed this poor Bartman guy. Then I thought, oh SCREW YOU Cubs fans. Bunch of sore losers. This guy was harassed so bad he had to leave the state. In the next couple of years I smirked at their decline. Though I like Dusty Baker, he seems like a nice man.

In 2004 things started getting hot for the Sox. Ozzie Guillen's style, the stellar pitching, defense and hitting were making the Sox a force to be reckoned with. In 2005, they only got hotter and cuter. Their chemistry was unparalleled. When one player would fall, someone else would pick them up. Ozzie's philosophy of no finger pointing succeeded in creating team players without punk ass attituded. I'm looking at you Jeter. Oh, and Clemens you used to be a punk ass but now you're too old so you're just an ass.

Metaphysically speaking I think the universe was ready for a Sox win. It was clear that this team was there to play to win and not to play not to lose. That attitude was palpable. During the Cubs v. Marlins playoff series I had this feeling that the Cubs just won't win and I couldn't put my finger on it. It's the same thing I felt when I'd watch the Mariners and Skankees in post season play. I just knew that the Mariners weren't going to win. Houston fans knew damn well they weren't going to win. You could hear it at the last out of game 4. That collective, "Ohhhhhhhhhh", as if a toddler dropped his ice cream cone. Bless their bee loving hearts, Houston played some tough ball, but the Sox were tougher. For the first time in my life I had the feeling that these guys can't lose. They have talent and they respect it in one another. They are smart as hell and take advantage of every break that come their way. They have foul mouthed, pragmatic Ossie whose confidence and belief in his management style transcend to every member of the team. And once they came up with their theme song, Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'", they made sure to fly Steve Perry to all of the remaining games. To have a group experience like this, a collective of the right players, the right leaders, the right attitude and the right time is legendary.

I saw these Chicago legends downtown last Friday at a ticker tape parade. The crowds, the paper, the noise, the excitement, it was palpable and I'll admit, I teared up. I couldn't see well, but I managed to glimpse them all. When it was over I joined the sea of black and white up Madison Avenue back to work. It was bittersweet in that they won the World Series, but it was over so fast. Here's to a repeat in 2006. Historically speaking, you know, they're no Yankees, but ewwwwwww that's a good thing.