[If you think you’ve read this article before, you have. Opening Day is always Opening Day, after all.]
This article will not discuss players who signed with other teams, or who were traded to other teams. It will not mention owners or front office people and the moves they made (or didn’t make). It will not name websites that traffic in fancy stats or metrics or W-L projections, all of which are better than recent vintage for our Chicago White Sox, but still not championship caliber. It will not fret about heartbreaking injuries.
Because Opening Day is for hope and joy and hope again.
“Opening Day” are the best two words there are, in any language. Other contenders for that title include:
- Pay day
- Hot fudge
- “Good dog”
- Multiple orgasm
- Ice cream
- Ocean view
- Bourbon, neat
- “I quit!”
Tomorrow, we worry. But today is Opening Day. And for one brief, shining moment, anything is possible.
It is possible that Lucas Giolito wins the Cy Young and Tim Anderson wins the MVP.
It is possible that Dallas Keuchel and Lance Lynn are the steadiest 2-3 in the American League, that Carlos Rodón at last has a full, healthy season, and Dylan Cease finally finds some command.
It is possible that the White Sox have the scariest bullpen in all of baseball.
It is possible that Andrew Vaughn and Zack Collins play a cromulent left field and catcher, respectively.
It is possible that Adam Eaton will make me forget The LaRoche Affair. And it’s possible that Adam Engel will make me forget Adam Eaton.
It is possible that José Abreu has found a fountain of youth now that he’s on a good team for a change, and that there are enough young DH/1B types (looking at you, Vaughn, Collins, and Yermín Mercedes) to give him enough rest to keep that fountain flowing.
It is possible that Yoán Moncada looks like it’s 2019 again, and Luis Robert is a baseball god.
It is possible that Eloy Jiménez has a shorter recovery time table, just in time for postseason heroics.
It is possible that Tony La Russa brings his best baseball mind to the dugout, while letting the clubhouse and personalities just be.
The bliss of Opening Day pops quickly, of course, a big bubble leaving you with gum all over your face. It may last an inning, a game, or if you’re lucky, a week. But enjoy it while it’s here. It won’t come again for 365 days.
In fact, the only negative thought I offer on Opening Day 2021 is this: a 9:05 p.m. start time, wut?
See you in the gamethread!