Welcome to White Sox therapy

Welcome to White Sox therapy.

Please do sit down. Water fountain? No, but there’s a half-finished can of MGD sitting over by the radiator. You’re welcome. What brings you in today? Ah, yes. Yes, indeed.

Oh, did I mention that I require payment in advance? Thanks. Comiskey Cash is fine.

Look, the list of White Sox woes is longer than Jean Baptiste Point du Sable Lake Shore Drive. We’ve got injuries out the wazoo, a derelict skipper, and the worst losing streak the MLB has seen this season. Whoa, wait, deep breaths. Slow, deep breaths. Don’t die on me. There’s still hope!

Let’s try a mental exercise. Just imagine the feel of the sun on your face … oh, right. It’s nearly May and still only 40 degrees out.

Well in that case, just picture the outfield bleachers, deckled with smiling faces. A giant goose head stretches up overhead…oh, wait. Right. The Goose Island Goose has flapped off to the great turd-covered field in the sky.

Well, maybe you’re right. The White Sox do seem pretty hopeless sometimes. But you know what always cheers me up? Watching our star shortstop TA perfectly snag a rough grounder up the middle … oh, dear.

Hey, mind if I finish that MGD? Thanks.