White Sox Opening Day

By Lew Freedman

It was the type of day to fall in love with baseball. Or to renew your vows. 

The home opener of the Chicago White Sox 2008 baseball season at U.S. Cellular Field against the Minnesota Twins had all of the elements, most importantly, sunshine.  

It was bright, so that it felt like baseball weather, even though it was only early April. The grass was very green, as it should be coming off a bleak and gray winter. And the 38,082 fans were in a good mood because baseball was back in business. 

You could tell it was opening day because the entire roster of 25 players was introduced, not just the starters. And the assistant trainer, and the assistant visitors’ clubhouse manager, too. 

The video board in center field flashed red, white and blue bunting. The flag unfurled on the field was one of those all-hands-on-deck jobs, seemingly as large as Lake Michigan. 

There were a few minutes between the game vamp till ready stuff and righty Javier Vasquez getting ready. At such moments, with a near-full house, baseball crowds sound unique. There is a low murmur in the stands. It is the hum of baseball talk between neighbors in the bleachers and box seats. 

“How do you think the Sox will do this year?” 

“That new guy, Carlos Quentin… I like him.” 

And nobody really knows how they will do because there are 157 games to play and nobody really knows if they’ll like Quentin so much next week when Jerry Owens is healed. But the buzz of the moment is pleasurable. Especially if you are biting into a grilled polish with cooked onions for the first time since September, the aroma making you weak in the knees the moment you passed through Gate 5. 

Or if it’s the Crackerjack you couldn’t wait to crunch on and wash down with the beer you just had to order before the first pitch. 

White Sox attire came out of the closet. Pink caps on the ladies. The traditional black with white “Sox,” old and broken-in hats written on others. Game-type jerseys with the names and numbers of favorites written on the back were displayed. 

It was OK for daddy to cut out of work early in his suit on a Monday afternoon. It was OK for junior to skip school with an excused absence from the parents, if not the authorities. 

Baseball, spring and optimism run together like ink on a wet newspaper, but after a season of disappointment the White Sox seemed to be playing with a revived spirit. Hitters seemed wiser at the bat. Runners seemed smarter on the bases. Pitchers’ curves didn’t hang. Batted balls fell in where fielders did not roam. 

It had been going that way on the road – went like that during the 2005 World Series run—and now those little things were falling into place again. Right-fielder Jermaine Dye cracked a seeing-eye single up the middle off a side-armer who seemed unhittable. Then third baseman Joe Crede, who missed most of last year with back surgery, showed he is Reliable Joe once more. He stroked a grand slam homer. 

The White Sox won, 7-4. But even if it was only one game, there was a special feeling in the air. There is a difference between optimism and a feeling and those who walked into the setting sun that day carried a feeling about 2008. 

(Lew Freedman is a Chicago-based sports writer and the author of the recently released “Then Ozzie said to Harold” from Triumph Books with former White Sox pitcher Billy Pierce.)