I was so rundown from months of baseball-related stress.
Got the flu the morning of Game 1.
Struggled to stay awake through all of Game 3.
My boyfriend at the time (the first and last Cubs fan I ever dated) sat with me on the couch.
In the 10th inning, being a smartass, he predicted that Geoff Blum would walk off in the 14th.

On October 26th, I watched from my couch with a box of Kleenex. And I went outside and screamed unto the night when they won.

I didn’t feel better health-wise until I ditched work on Friday the 28th, and ran through the streets of Chicago during the parade.

after the final out I grabbed a bottle of champagne I had in the fridge and with a huge poster of win or die trying I stole from CTA ran off to the park to celebrate (I lived on 31st and Princeton at the time). 4 of us raised quite a storm that night. It was fun.

Immediately bought $1000 worth of memorabilia (and actual seats a few days later) on-line at 3 AM. Shared the experience with no one at the time, since my family was asleep. I don’t care. I’m good if it never repeats. I just wanted one before I shuffled off the Mortal Coil.

I didn’t miss a single at-bat that night, not a single pitch. If I had been fired that night for watching the game and not working, I wouldn’t have minded one single bit. Got out of work at 11 and swung by my buddy’s house and the two of us went in search of fellow celebrators! T’was a good night indeed.

No one could eat comfortably because the restaurant and bar were packed like sardines. But ate we did! We ate it all up! The staff had champagne on ice and passed glasses (flutes?) around afterward. It was very classy

Was crammed into the bar with my ex g/f’s roommate. Picked her up and damn near threw her into the celing after the final out.

Went to the ballpark to watch the celebration. Lots of people carrying brooms, dancing in the rain.

Drove down to Beverly for champagne at mom and dad’s house. Didn’t get to bed until 2:00 AM.

Between the celebration, the late ending to game two and the 13 inning game three, I got very little sleep that week.

That whole month was just surreal.

Howinthehell did I miss that?

This is my favorite (click to see bigger):

I was on Oahu, and after game three I realized that this was really happening.I had to be there for the celebration,so I booked a late afternoon flight with a 45 minute layover in SF,arriving at O’hare at 5am on the 27th.(my birthday)
While we were en route between Honolulu and SF, the pilot,knowing that a lot of his passengers were destination Chicago, gave us inning by inning updates over the loudspeaker.The last announcement was, “The White Sox have won the World Series.”
I had quite a birthday that year, my young friends, culminating about three days later with a huge parade.

We were friends with the owner, so we were able to stay past closing. When the sox won, he poured us all a shot, I was a traveling consultant at the time, and then kicked us out. I didn’t believe it had happened as I walked in the misty, horrible Virginia night.

Kal Penn will play both.

And I like the Acta hiring.

As for ‘05, I don’t remember where I was. But I think I had fun…

dominated that playoff run. i was runnin around blazin and tellin cubs fans maybe next year go white sox!

as for the quiz thingy i got 17/26 before cheating. 3 or 4 of those 17 were definitely guesses.

absolutely shocked that we were going to win the world series. when we won i kinda just sat there like holy fuck i don’t believe it….. then i made and fielded about 300 calls.

the night before game 1 i was all nervous like the lunatic i am….. i had to get out of the house and i took a drive down to the park… they had the world series logo painted on grass outside the park… wow that was exciting.

that was my first year after receiving my teaching cert….and i was covering a maternity leave for the rest of the year but it didn’t start until november. so i had the whole playoffs off. now i would probably be fired because id have to take off like 10 days to enjoy the day games, the parade, the team flights into midway….. great year for it to happen.

Game one I went to Loco’s only to see LSU vs Florida or some SEC garbage like that on the big projection tv they had. I was pissed and relocated to McDonough’s. Small tvs but a good friend behind the bar and good company. The future wife and a few friends who rooted for the Sox only because I was such a fan, including a Red Sox fan who came on board after we swept them. I think I watched game 2 and 3 there as well, I know I watched 3 there, I remember walking back to my seat and stopping to watch El Duque pitch on the other side of the bar when some local saw my gear and said that that guy pitches a lot like the guy who used to pitch for the Yankees a long time ago and was amazed to find out it was the same guy. Game 4 was sweet, no tears because it took a week to sink in. ‘Shorty’, an ancient local photographer who wandered bar to bar taking polaroids and charging people $5 a pop on the weekends got a shot of me and the lil lady after the game.

I don’t remember if I cried when they won the Boston series. But when they won the pennant, I was home, alone, yelling for joy and crying like a bitch on my floor for about half an hour.

I decided that even though I usually prefer watching my teams alone, I probably shouldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate this with friends in a crowd. So we went to Martini Blue in New Lenox, which was – like everywhere else – packed to the gills. I ate my dinner standing up (it was weird to be waited on without having a table).

I had my old Sony Walkman on me, listening to Rooney and Farmio on the call. The AM broadcast was a few seconds ahead of the TV feed, so when Rooney called the final out (goosebumps as I’m writing this) – “Out! Out! A White Sox winner, and a World Championship!” – I started screaming. A couple of seconds later, the rest of the bar went into an uproar. It was kinda cool to have that little moment all to myself – as if I was home on my couch – before sharing it with everybody else.

I collapsed against a table; my knees had buckled. I had been standing for 5 hours. My feet were throbbing. I was crying like a baby. Champagne was blasted all over the place (I never cleaned the jacket I was wearing, and sometimes I can still smell the champagne on it). I hugged everyone around me, and had a celebratory drink. I didn’t get drunk because I was working the next morning (a mistake I’ll never repeat). But it was still surreal; a dream.

It was the greatest day of my life.

Steve Lefkowitz, Phillips’s agent, said in a statement, "Steve Phillips is voluntarily admitting himself to an inpatient treatment facility to address his personal issues." Lefkowitz said he informed ESPN on Friday of Phillips’s intention.

Was this not predicted? Dr. Phil, here we come! Book tour in 9 months.

read here

8/26, was most proud to guess Borchard. Also got McDowell, Ventura, Thomas, Fields, Poreda, Bacon, and Jared Mitchell.

I was on the patio by the pool in my backyard in Phoenix, Az. I had recently met my future wife, so she came over to see the game. She is from Az, and didn’t really know that Sox fans existed in Az. Hoytsstash had to let her know the difference between Sox/Flub fans.
The World Series being on major difference. You’ll have to excuse Hoytsstash lack of wit this evening, I have been awake for two days.
I can remember the winning call, “And the White Sox have won the World Series” I laughed and laughed and laughed until my stomach hurt.

actually took me a while to realize we drafted Thomas and Ventura
(but I didn’t cheat on those)

Was in Vegas when they clinched the pennant. Cried like a bitch with several grown men in the Bellagio sports book. After they won I think I stared for hours in shock before crying again in the morning during the highlights. The cool thing is I think I fielded about 35-40 voice mail messages from folks and family who knew the love for the Pale Hose I had. I want that feeling again.

Where I watched all the games except for the loss and game 3 of the ALCS (friends getting married… how dare they not reschedule the wedding). Promptly got in the car with the woman and drove down to the cell (well, close), to give some nice lads rides on my hood.

Wait, somewhere in there I’m sure I squeezed one out.

Buehrle DVD offer leads to Geek Squad guy removing Trojan virus from my laptop as we speak. Thanks, Troop.

You could learn from these two

During game 4, had went out a few nights.

Anyways we were all watching downstairs. After they won, we popped the champagne bottles. Jumped up and down, got tons of calls from all over and I actually teared up. I made the right choice staying home, The Sox are a big part of my families identity (does that sound bad)? Then went out to the bar and had a few.

It was a great day and night. Everybody always knew I was a major lifelong White Sox fan, plenty of Cubs fans friends gave me congrats.

I remember waking up the next morning thinking holy shit they won!

I live not far from there, felt like celebrating in the heart of Cubbieville (I’m not usually such an asshole, but it was convenient for friends and I). I was very gratified to see the “Congrats to the World Champion White Sox” on the programmable Wrigley Field sign (I should try to find the pic I took and post it here). But when the post-victory celebration on Clark Street turned out to be meager, the driving rain prevented my lazy ass from heading South as should have. So I went home. I do have regrets (“clearly”)…

I watched at a bar in Berkeley, since shuttered for serving to those underage. There were a few Astros fans seated at the bar itself, while I was seated with friends, none of whom were Sox fans, just across the way. The table next to us had 4-5 people claiming to be from Chicago and Sox fans, but unless they were really really high, there was no way they had any idea of what was going on. After PK caught the ball for the final out, I found myself jumping up and down on the table, watching the Astros fans leave, and noticing that noone else in the bar seemed to give a shit. We left soon after, bought some shitty champagne and cheap cigars and went back to my residence where we drank, watched highlights, and I called most every Sox fan I knew. It was great.

My girlfriend at the time, a former NCAA volleyball player, had no idea why I was so excited that the Sox won. My housemate tried several times to explain why I was so happy, but this girl was not the sharpest tool in the shed and never caught on. Needless to say, she’s no longer my girlfriend and for those of you residing in NYC, stay away from Californians named Mia.

Anyways, it was a great night spent drinking shitty champagne and smoking crappy cigars. I had a wretched hangover the next day, but it was well worth it. Despite the celebration, it took going to a game in Chicago the next summer, where I saw the trophy on display, to fully sink in. I’m disappointed that I didn’t go to the parade (I watched WGN’s coverage) or fly to Houston to see a game, but better luck next time, I suppose.