Time

The first time I really followed the White Sox was 1963, when they went 94-68. Only later did I appreciate that a few Sox seasons were the exception, as opposed to the rule, which could usually be found in the neighborhood of .500 baseball. Because I was young, I treated every Sox player as a demigod, his name committed to memory; in that way a hero would never be forgotten. Give me enough time, and I can still come up with fifteen or so names from 1963. Like Ray Herbert, who died in December; or Gary Peters, who passed away in January; or Dave Nicholson, who died in February. Because I remember names, I know that Pete Ward died a year ago in March and Joel Horlen last April. Al Weis was twenty-five in 1963; he’s eighty-five now. J.C. Martin, my first favorite Sox player, was a year older than Weis in ‘63, and still is. Ron Hansen, he of the troublesome back at shortstop, has also reached eighty-five. The Sox traded Luis Aparicio in a deal that included Hansen and Ward; in addition, they were grooming Don Buford, who turned eighty-six in February, to replace Nellie Fox at second base. A twenty-two year old Tommy McCraw took over at first base for an injured Joe Cunningham that June. Sixty years later, McCraw is the youngster of the group, at eighty-two. Herbert, Horlen, Peters and Nicholson were all part of the In Memoriam video tribute on Opening Day Monday, along with Bob Locker (I interviewed him once, interesting guy in a libertarian sort of way); Ken Frailing (traded with the Steves, Swisher and Stone, for Ron Santo); Marv Staehle (local kid, Oak Park, another Fox-type player, or so it was hoped); and Tom Flanigan, someone who pitched in two games when I was two-years old. That was a long time ago. Fred Klages pitched for the Sox in 1966 and ’67. I went on baseball-reference.com today to check on ages mentioned above only to see that Klages passed away on March 30. I seem to be running out of demigods.