.jpg) |
(Photo by Jason Bauman) |
Is it unusual that I can pinpoint the exact day when my White Sox fandom changed? We're coming up on the two-year anniversary of that moment.
The date was April 30, 2023. Ironically, I was in attendance that day at a game the Sox won.
It was a Sunday afternoon. It was the final game of a four-game series against the Tampa Bay Rays. The Sox were 7-21. (Sound familiar?) They entered the afternoon on a 10-game losing streak.
The weather was cloudy and cool, about 45 degrees, and it rained intermittently throughout the game. My girlfriend did not want to go to the game that day -- the combination of the poor play on the field and the miserable weather put her in a dour mood. She had no problem reminding me throughout the game just how poor the conditions were.
But surprisingly enough, the Sox were ahead 4-2 after seven innings. They were in good position to break their long losing streak. Alas, this was a bullpen that featured Joe Kelly, Reynaldo Lopez, Aaron Bummer and Kendall Graveman.
Some combination of that group lit the game on fire, and by the top of the ninth, the Sox were trailing 9-5. Amid all the traffic on the bases and all the pitching changes, the pace of the game slowed to a crawl. The weather was getting worse, and my girlfriend's complaints were growing louder.
Finally, I realized that she was right: The whole thing sucked. We weren't having a good time. She didn't want to be there. I no longer wanted to be there. I said, "Let's go," and we left.
We listened to the bottom of the ninth inning in the car on a rainy drive home, and naturally, the Sox staged a seven-run rally and won, 12-9, on a walk-off home run by Andrew Vaughn.
And I didn't care. I didn't care that I had missed the comeback. I didn't care that the Sox had won. My girlfriend must have asked me 10 times on the hour-long drive home if I was mad at her for complaining about the weather.
Each time, I answered "no," and I wasn't lying. I legitimately wasn't mad. It had been my decision to leave early, and she had not objected.
In a different time and place in my life, I might have been mad at her. Or I might have insisted that we stay until the end of the game. I've been around long enough to know that you never know what you're going to see.
But I had reached a point where I didn't care about the outcome of the game, and I no longer cared about the outcome of the Sox season. I realized that day that I disliked most of the players on the team anyway. I had no real connection to any of them. I realized that it no longer made sense to invest my money and emotions in a baseball team that was dysfunctional, didn't care about its fans and played poorly most of the time.
Strangely, not giving a damn about a dramatic, come-from-behind victory made me aware of just how indifferent I had become to the whole enterprise.
Sure, I continued to attend games for the rest of the 2023 season, although I did so halfheartedly. After all, I had bought a 20-game ticket plan. You couldn't resell the tickets on the secondary market. The team was so bad that tickets weren't worth the digital bandwidth they were printed on. It was a sunk cost, and the only way to recoup any value was to go to the games.
But I dropped my ticket plan after the conclusion of the 2023 season, and I haven't returned to Rate Field since, not even once. I had been a season ticket holder for 19 seasons, and it was not a decision I took lightly. It's a sad state of affairs, and I just happened to be reflecting on it today for whatever reason.
Hopefully, one day, there will be a reason to invest money and emotions into the Sox again. However, that day is not today.