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Stay Soxy, Chicago

Posted in Uncategorized by com360bu on March 14, 2013
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By Lee Pikelny

Everybody has had some sort of moment they’d like to relive. Usually there is more than one, but come on, something has to stand out. For me, that moment is in 2005… When the Chicago White Sox won the World Series. It’s been almost 10 years, yet I still remember the key pitches, the defining plays, the calls… and I’ve been trying to relive it everyday. Even today, it still matters.

My dad and I sat in the living room, me on the couch, him on the La-Z-Boy recliner, our eyes fixed on the TV. Dad had his radio, as always, because he preferred listening to the White Sox announcers, not the Fox announcers. I couldn’t blame him, but I wanted to hear the action as I was seeing it, and the radio was ahead of the action by about three seconds. He would be making audible grunts of frustration before I knew a Sox batter had struck out, or would quietly, yet excitedly, say “yes” when another player got got a hit… and I would get made at him. I didn’t want to know what was coming. When Bobby Jenks threw that final pitch to Orlando Palmero, I could see in my peripheral that my dad was looking at me with a half smile.

“A grounder up the middle, past Jenks. Uribe has it. He throws- OUT! OUT! A WHITE SOX WINNER! AND A WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!”

That’s the call by John Rooney, the one my dad heard on air as I stared at the screen, popping up off of the couch in excitement. “THEY DID IT!” is what I might have said if I wasn’t making too many excited wooing sounds. I gave my dad more than a few high fives. I’m sure we woke my mom up. I got my mini Sox flag from my room and started frantically running around the living room while jumping for joy. It may have been 11 p.m. and it may have been a school night, but my dad and I went outside and walked around the neighborhood, flag in hand… The city was quiet. We live on the Near North Side. A couple of cars honked, and that was enough. We headed back home, still excited.

The next day we woke up early. My dad drove me to Krispy Kreme and we bought a few boxes of donuts. Again, I grabbed my Sox flag, but this time I added some pennants, and I headed into my eighth grade classroom. I hooked up my iPod (remember the ones that only played music) to the class speakers and started playing “Let’s Go, Go Go White Sox” by Captain Stubby and the Buccaneers, the song used by the 1959 World Series team. It was revived in ’05 when the Sox broke out the throwback uniforms to play against the Los Angeles Dodgers, this time in the regular season. Most of my friends were Cubs fans, but today everybody was a Sox fan, if only because it meant getting a donut.

Today, I still remember all of it. I still have the newspaper covers from each clinching game, from the division to the championship. For a while, the papers, the locker room hat, and a new jersey with the championship patch on it were all I needed. Several years ago, I started wanting more.

I continue to find myself on eBay, and I commonly enter “White Sox World Series” into the search bar. I have been adding to my collection: signed and unsigned pictures from key moments such as Paul Konerko’s grand slam and Scott Podsednik’s walk off home run from game two, Jermaine Dye hitting in the only run of game four, Juan Uribe fielding the final out, I even bought a picture of AJ Pierzynski’s dropped third strike from the ALCS. I bought the commemorative editions of Sports Illustrated, the Chicago Tribune, and the Chicago Sun Times. I have White Sox World Series Uno. Somehow, I haven’t purchased the Monopoly version of the championship yet. I have the shirts, including the one worn in the locker room during the celebration. It only took me almost seven years to find one in my size. I also have various versions of the World Series trophy, including a 4.5” replica and a slightly larger pencil holder.

My mom doesn’t understand why I keep getting all this stuff, especially since I don’t have my own place… but some of the pictures still sit in the envelopes they came in, many of the memorabilia is packed away in crates, but I will occasionally open them up and take a look, reliving the moments I remember so clearly from eight years ago.

Meanwhile, new great moments come up. Mark Buerhle’s no hitter in 2007? My friends made me a DVD of the gam.e The tiebreaker, “Blackout,” game in 2008 against the Twins? I was there. Mark Buerhle’s perfect game in 2009? I was supposed to be there… I even invited somebody weeks before who told me he couldn’t go… Turned out he could, which he told me… a day after the game. *sigh*

Countless memories, and stacks of memorabilia, have built up in my mind, my closet, and my want-list. I’ll never forget the 2005 White Sox, and even when the Sox get to put up another banner, the first championship I really got to appreciate will live on in my mind, and around my future room, forever.

 

This blog was written as if it could appear on White Sox Gab.

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