Monday, June 15, 2009
How I Became a White Sox Fan: Why the Cops Showed Up at My Fifth Birthday Party
In Chicago, the rivalry between Cub fans and White Sox fans is very intense. We say you can't be a fan of both. It has to be one or the other. This really isn't entirely true. My mom and I wish the Cubs well until they win the play offs. We do not want them to become Division Champions. That risks that they will have to face the White Sox in the World Series. I don't doubt that my beloved Sox could kick their sweet patooties....I just fear the tension that would create in this fair city of ours...
I could claim to be a White Sox fan because my favorite cousin Ricky was/is. Ricky is still alive. Ricky is still a Sox fan. He just doesn't want to be called "Ricky" ever again....Anyways, I loved Ricky more than anyone. I thought everything he did and thought was just the greatest, including burping the alphabet. That was always impressive when done by him. Ricky was a goofball as a kid with an odd sense of humor. I know. It is hard to imagine that I was ever drawn to that. I think I was a disappointment as a younger (by four years) cousin to him. I could not burp pass the letter "f". I tried to make it up to him by cheering for the White Sox. And Elvis. But I think that is another post....
I could claim that, and it would be the truth. Not the whole truth, but the truth nevertheless. The real reason I became a White Sox fan is my dad's cousin, Uncle Felix (I have changed his name for the sake of his family, who would be pretty ticked to see this story out there in cyber land with his name attached to it.).
My mom's brothers were Cub fans. They were intense in their fandom compared to my daddy. My daddy was not a big fan of baseball. Too much time standing around. He prefered to watch soccer or basketball, where the game could change if you blink. My dad's cousin however, was a VERY intense White Sox fan. This made for an interesting fifth birthday party for me.
Uncle Felix's son Edgar was a Cub's fan. At my fifth birthday party, Uncle Felix and Edgar have a huge argument over the merits of the Cubs vs. White Sox. Uncle Felix decided to settle the matter once and for all by grabbing one of my birthday presents (a wooden baseball bat), and storming out the door onto the street where he proceeded to beat on Edgar's car. So yes, the only party I was ever at that had the cops show up was my fifth birthday party.
It was then that I knew that if I valued the bicycle I got for Christmas, I must become a convincing White Sox fan. And, it stuck. I do hope the Cubbies do well (I owe my other Uncles that much consideration for not scaring me), but NEVER better than the White Sox. I also like jokes about the Cubs.
One of my absolute favorites:
A wicked Chicago man died and went to the place all wicked people go. The Devil decided to shove him in a room and cranked the heat and humidity up.
The man smiled. When the Evil One asked why the man was smiling he said: "Just like Chicago in Spring"
So the Most Evil One cranked up the heat and humidity more. The man removed his coat, smiled, and said:
"Just like Chicago in Summer"
This time the Destroyer of Beauty cranked the heat and humidity to maximum.
The man removed his shirt and tie and said
"Just like Chicago in August"
The Devil then got an idea. He shut off the heat and turned on the air conditioning. The room froze in seconds. Ice was everywhere. Polar bears hid in dens because it was so cold. Satan, confident he had finally won, peaked in the man's room only to find the man cheering and partying frantically....
"The Cubs won the World Series...The Cubs won the World Series..."
Now, my daddy always wore a hat wherever he went. Usually not one with a MLB logo on it, but a plain old gray or blue one, unless we went by Uncle Felix. Can you guess what kind of hat he wore when around Uncle Felix? Yep! A Cubs hat. Looking back, I think my dad must've been the kind of kid who liked to poke bears with a stick or something, because, like I said earlier, daddy was not really much of a baseball fan. (Woops, sorry Billy.) Uncle Felix, however, never called daddy on the hat.
For those of you who are weeping to find out that dear Helen at Random Musings is a White Sox fan, take heart. I am in a mixed marriage. That is right. My husband is a Cubs fan and I married him anyway. I think that is punishment enough for being a Cubs fan, don't you?
Oh yeah, I thought this would fit with a Life is Funny theme on Wendy's blog carnival. So there you go.