Goin' to a Sox Game


Just got two ducats to see the Sox and Minnesota. Right behind first base, first level. Yeah.

Going to a Sox game has been the one constant in my entire life. Friends and family have all shared the experience with me. Sometimes I had to go to Wrigley to appease some of those folks, but never, and I mean never, did I pay to get in. Ever.

The Cell or Old Comiskey, the majority of my happy memories emanate from goin’ to a Sox game. As a youth, two dads and two sons would bring a basket of fried chicken, a bowl of potato salad and hunker down for a twi-night double header, back when you could bring in food AND see two for the price of one. I saw Nellie Fox hit a homerun to win game 1 against the Twins, then Billy Goodman do the same in the nightcap, Bo Jacksons high, wind blown pop-up drift into the left field bullpen in 1993, Harold Baines’ 9th innning sacrifice fly in 1983, and Podsednik’s unlikely World Series home run.

Wilbur Wood vs. Gaylord Perry. Roger Clemens vs. Jack McDowell, Mark Buerhle vs. Johann Santana.

Games with my buddies, from grammar school to celebrating 30 years since finishing college. Every girlfriend, and one wife went to a game and became fans of, if not the sport, then the experience. One girlfriend was already a Sox fan when we met which was a novel and exhilirating experience. The current woman in my life has become avid enough to recognize opposing team players.  West Coast games find us having Hawk and Stone Pony provide the backdrop to late night shennanigans. Who needs Frank Sinatra or Luther Vandross. She might be a keeper.

My son’s first ball game was Cubs vs Phillies (free tickets) but he was too young to see Sandburg and Schmidt hit homers, so that does not count. The San Diego Chicken found his way to our seat by fortune at Eric’s first real game and the smile that lit up his face has yet to be matched. He was hooked.

As adults we still go to games, allowing us the leisurely entertainment that allows conversation to flow and traditions shared.

So Tuesday we go, with my newest and most desirable convert on my arm. She has never sat in the lower level. Never walked the concourse or smelled the additional aromas not available in the upper deck. As much fun as the game will be, as it always is, the experience of sharing the excitement she will feel as the field comes into view and she realizes just how close to the action we are, will allow me to see the game once again through a fresh pair of eyes, taking in the splendor that is professional baseball, White Sox style.

Yeah, I’m goin’ to a Sox game.

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