Here it is. The most realistic plan that we as White Sox fans can expect. You know what's coming. I know what's coming.
When I was 15, we went to my grandparent's house for Thanksgiving like we always do. Grandma was in her eighties by then and she was losing her edge around the house.... losing as in it was gone...for the last 5 years. She hadn't cleaned anything for at least that long. Anyway, we're sitting at the table and Grandma opens the oven for the big reveal. The bird is coming out finally. She takes it out, drops it on the floor, picks it up and serves the damned thing. It's got hair on it. Dirt. Fuzz. Swear to God an actual button got stuck to it. This is the offseason. This is what the offseason leads to. My soul's prepared, how's yours?