Still a Fan

It’s just occurred to me that lately I’ve been sounding like a real sports’ carp if not a downright sports’ agnostic—or worse, if that’s possible.  Hmm.  I have to admit to not liking much of what passes for professional sports in the city of Chicago these days.  I can also tell you horror stories about youth, high school and college sports to boot.  So, why care about or follow anything?

Well, for openers there’s always a favorite player, which in my case, was my daughter for a good 14 years.  Her victories were my victories, her defeats mine (though she’s never once offered to share a home run with her father).  I’ve found other players to identify with, too, from J.C. Martin and Walt Williams a half-century ago to Tyler Saladino today.  Tyler showed off a great mustache at SoxFest over the weekend, very Asian Pacific with real handlebar potential.  He also added 58 points to his batting average from rookie year.

I like Paul Konerko because he showed kindness to my daughter (one autograph, two game balls tossed to) and marvel at someone like Michael Jordan; to have seen him is to have some idea what Ted Williams must have been about.  I’m impressed by Serena Williams and wish Jennie Finch had tried to throw a baseball at some point in her career.  Right now, the White Sox have a lot of rookies who remind me of my daughter with their enthusiasm and hopes for the future, though Yoan Mocada’s attraction to fast cars is worrisome.

In sum, the sports’ page still interests me as much as the arts’ section.