It hasn’t been much of a sports weekend here so far. Geneva lost, Batavia lost, Wheeling lost, the White Sox have dropped a bunch in a row ( I remember Jean Shepherd writing about his father. At one point he said, “My old man was in a philosophical mood. The White Sox had just dropped nine straight, and this always left him in a reflective mood.”) and the Bears kick off tomorrow. They should be pretty good.
I was in Pennsylvania working my buddy and boss Rebecca in 2005, October. I got into bed and went to sleep without watching the Sox in the World Series against the Astros. The phone rang in the motel room–the Eden Resort in Lancaster, PA. It was my son, like his dad a lifetime Sox fan, calling to tell me the Sox had won the World Series. So I sat up until I fell asleep watching the post-game celebration. I was thrilled, I have to say.
So sitting here watching a perfectly dreadful Sox team is sort of the spiritual equivalent of zipping your most precious flesh into your trousers. Painful, yes. Not only that, my son’s team (he’s an assistant coach–will probably be a head coach in a few years ) got clobbered last night.
Still, there is some good news. Not that both Chicago baseball teams are in last place, nor that the high school football news is — as my beloved wife would say — icky. But Illinois won, clobbering a team that was supposed to be pretty tough, Cincinnati. (Are you kidding me? The Illini playing Cincinnati? ) Vanderbilt (from which I graduated with a doctorate plays tonight. The Bears haven’t lost yet.
Not only that, we have church tonight, always a highlight of the week, and then we’re going to dinner with some dear friends. My family is healthy. My car is healed from its bad roof. I feel pretty good y’all (to quote Wilson Pickett). and I’m married to a beautiful woman.
Always the optimist. Goes with being a White Sox fan. As Shepherd once said, if you ever have to storm a machine gun nest, take White Sox fans with you.
God Bless, beloved.