A single file line, about 50 cars long, all driving slow with their lights on. They pause to pay the $24 dollars to park, get out of the car and head in to the last home game at the cell. Other fans begin to take, note. This group is all wearing black, but it's not what you would expect. They are dressed more like the baseball game they are attending is taking place 100 years ago. Everyone is wearing a suit, and the occasional pair of sun glasses almost makes them look like a Blues Brothers tribute.

But these fans aren't here to honor Jake and Elwood, they are here to mourn the 2012 season and what could have been. To a man they carry a rose. In to gate 2 they go, up the ramp and on to the concourse. Near the fan deck, they gathered for a moment in silence, joined by a couple curious on lookers.

Now they take turns, remembering their old friend, the 2012 season, for the good times they had-

"Eleven rookies on the pitching staff, with Hector Santiago named the opening day closer. And they still stayed in contention!"

"Adam Dunn hit over 40 bombs. He almost won the AL HR crown."

"Alex Rios played his ass off, he was our MVP."

"Paul Konerko was batting over .380 through the first 2 months of the season! Over .400 for the first two weeks."

"The condor Chris Sale emerged as a true Ace, and Cy Young candidate."

"Jake Peavy made it through the year without any of his muscles rolling up like a cheap window shade."

"A.J. had a career year. 27 homers and caught 27 base runners stealing."

"First place for what, 80, 90% of the season? That was ... well."

That one stung, a little too much. Most of the crowd winces, the speaker breaks down in tears and can't go on.

Everyone decides that is enough with the eulogies. They begin the slow descent, down the stairs past the bleachers to the fence. One by one they drop their rose over the wall, piling up the dead flowers under the pictures of White Sox immortals.