In case it wasn’t obvious by my lack of posting, this blog had been unofficially abandoned. The way the White Sox season ended pretty much sucked the fandom out of me, and if there was nothing positive to write, I didn’t want to write at all. Then, once this blog’s namesake left the team for the Marlins, I knew it was time to end this blog. It was a wonderful six months, but I didn’t want to do it anymore. Simple as that.
I always felt bad about not “officially” ending this blog. I sort of left it out to dry, with no conclusion, no farewell. My last post wasn’t even about a current White Sock, for crying out loud. But, I couldn’t think of any way to end it that would be fitting? Ozzie’s leaving? I didn’t want my last post to be an angry rant. The hiring of Robin Ventura? Didn’t know much about the guy. What was there to say, other than that the Wizard had fallen off her broom?
Now, I know how to end this.
My first favorite player, the one who got me into the magic of White Sox baseball, is gone. Mark Buehrle has joined my first manager in Miami. I am happy for Mark that he finally got rewarded the way he deserves, but I know the first chapter in my White Sox fandom is over. The man who made it happen in ’05, who threw a perfect game on my birthday, who made 4 All-Star teams, has ended his run in the Black and White. And therefore, it’s onto a new beginning.
I still love the White Sox. I still love Buehrle. But I know this season, the game will be slightly different. The White Sox are destined for mediocrity. Buehrle will be donning some hideous combination of pastel colors. And me? I will root for both. You love the uniform, not who’s wearing it. But sometimes, the man who wore the uniform is too special to disown. Thanks, Mark, for all of the South Side memories, and for making me a loyal, lifelong White Sox fan. Thanks to everyone who read and commented on my blog this summer. Though it wasn’t lasting, I enjoyed reading your insights on my boys, and still read many of your blogs today. So this is me, a disappointed but hopeful me, signing off. And, as always,