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September 2003
After 88 years in the crapper the boys in black and white finally brought one to the South Side. With potential history in the making and an upcoming move, by mid to late September I had completely checked out of real life and checked into the White Sox express.
With two weeks left in the regular season, the Sox seemed like they were about to be a part of one of the biggest collapses in the history of sports. The Cleveland Indians caught on fire and went on a super sick streak of winning while the White Sox floundered at a sub .500 streak.
While Cleveland continued to climb closer and closer to first place as a Sox fan I became increasing flustered and started to contemplate throwing in the towel. Did I really want to embrace a team that would carry the most embarrasing label of all time? Even if they didn't complete the collapse and limped into the post season they'd get crushed right?
Well I went home after a tough loss to Cleveland on September 19th and decided nothing to do but reinvest myself fully and I buckled in for what would be one the craziest ride in my 15 years of loving sports.