Day 91 Risk: Root for the White Sox

"Please don't let anyone see me. Please don't let anyone see me."

My husband’s uncle got all of us tickets to go see the White Sox play on Thursday. I was very excited, having never been to a game at US Cellular Field. But a dilemma arose for me: Who do I root for? I ended up choosing the White Sox.

This one needs to be explained a bit. There are two major reasons that this is a risk.

The first deals with the fact that I am a northsider, so much so that I live less than a 10 minute walk from Wrigley Field, home of the Chicago Cubs. I once had a man on a plane ask me, “So Chicagoans must support both the Sox and the Cubs right?” I just laughed. It’s pretty well known that you must choose a side when you move here. And by default, I chose the Cubs. All other Chicago sports are easy. You can’t help but root for the Bears or the Bulls or the Blackhawks. But baseball is another story. My friends would be disappointed.

The second deals with the fact that the Sox were playing the Yankees. My family is born and bred New York. Until I moved to Chicago, I only rooted for New York teams: Giants, Yankees, Mets. My family has already claimed me un-Italian based on the fact that I don’t eat red meat and am no longer Catholic. Now I’m not taking New York’s side? What would they think?

I called my brother halfway through the game to forewarn him about this risk. Here is our conversation:

Me: “Hey, guess where I am?”

Broham: “No idea.”

“At a White Sox game. Guess who they are playing?”

“Are you wearing blue (the color of the Yankees)?”

“No. Black.” At this point I was waiting for the onslaught of insults.

“I thought you were taking a year of risks.”

“I am! The risk is that my family will disown me!”

“Girl get on some stripes! The real risk would have been to support the Yanks on the south side of Chicago.” He had a point there.

“Well look out for this on my blog.”

“I got two words for you and your blog: Freakin Pansy.” Later he sent a text to my husband telling him to tell me that I was a freakin pansy.

Note: This was all done through laughter. My brother is awesome.

So I’m saying it: I rooted for the White Sox. I am a traitor to my neighborhood and my family. If it’s any comfort, they lost miserably and easily.


Risky Thoughts

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