My username is whiteliketv. I initially typed whitesox to get into the blog. Big mistake. Er whatever.
My White Sox are playing Oakland tonight. By watching MLB AtBat, my brain heard Hawk say, “Oh, Paulie, dassmean” when he backed up Dunn’s homer with one of his own. I’ve been doing this awful terrible thing when I watch AtBat alone: I fill in my own “play-by-play.” Hawk’s way, basically.
Of course, I like when my Sox play the A’s. It’s kinda like when we play Seattle. Or Baltimore. Unless they win the series because they’re pretty good at the time. Or Kansas City for the same reason. And not really, because I like good baseball. So I really do like when the Royals put up a good fight. I don’t even mind if they win if my Sox played well. But when it’s the A’s, the game’s just more fun.
When they’re playing the A’s, you can watch Paulie put it on the board–yes–immediately after Dunn has gone yard. On Bartolo Colon.
But you also get a ton of excitement. The A’s are unpredictable. I never have them on my fantasy team for that reason. They will win you big or they will lose you so hard.
Secretly, the A’s were my other team as a kid. And back then, it wasn’t secret because I am a girl and I like their colors and also Ricky Henderson is faster than Conseco is scary and I don’t care about standings or playoffs if it means watching the A’s OR the Sox. I’m in.
Like tonight I watched some guy take eight straight pitches for strikes. Never. A ball. Against Jake Peavy. I mean. Peavy was being super-efficient up to that point. Then forever with the fouls. Amazing.
Maybe that’s not exactly exciting. But the A’s always seem to have exciting guys. One or two, maybe. But fun stuff. And I always enjoy watching my team play a fun game.
This brings me back to my point of misconstruing my e-identity with the White Sox: I’m a homer.
That photo of AJ looking stupid with some hot chick and photosHawk creepin was from heavethehawk. And that’s just ridiculous. Sure, I turn my TV off when he gets too stupid about the impact of sound on a player, but I love that he loves the White Sox–even if he didn’t know how to show it as the worst GM.
Hawk’s been a voice in every summer of my life, and I didn’t even realize other people didn’t know “You can put it on the board–YES!!!” until I said it once in college to a friend from St. Louis. But I’m sure I don’t know some of her life-long catchphrases either.
And I can’t really tell if heavethehawk is serious (I didn’t read the “manifesto.”) because I understand how awful it can be to not hear anything while the Sox are losing. Or to hear about stupid stuff when he’s too drunk to notice the Sox are losing.
And maybe this year our Sox–mine and Hawk’s–will do more winning, so the angry silences don’t become a problem.
Because if you turn Hawk off, you might miss that “It’s about attitude” that you drunkenly slur at your friends while criticizing the troublesome youths or at a meandering pigeon on the bridge.
And you could just as easily miss Stone Pony saying, “Nick Punto will be the first to tell you: a normal size man makes that play.”
*This was all an amazing effort to avoid mentally acknowledging Peavy’s potential shutout. Success.
**But it’s all part of my belief that your baseball heart belongs to your childhood; you’re just carrying it through time.