I am a member of the proud and the few, but I am not a Marine. I am a loyal fan of the Chicago White Sox.

Due to my Southside upbringing, I have been a fan of the White Sox my entire life. I couldn’t care less about the Yankees and Red Sox – give me the Cubs-White Sox Red Line Series any day.

Although there is a sizeable population of students from the Chicago and Northwest Indiana area at UR, most of them are fans of the Chicago Cubs.

Just check out the Facebook – there are only five members of the Chicago White Sox Fan/Sympathizer Club – and two of them are Red Sox fans – as opposed to the 48 who are members of the Cubs Fans group.

In fact, I am pretty sure that there are more White Sox fans in Cuba and Venezuela than there are in Chicago, but that doesn’t bother me too much because it’s better to have a few real fans than a lot of fake ones who leave at the first sign of a bad season.

And boy, there have been a lot of bad seasons, or at least mediocre. As a result of my love for the White Sox, I am a jaded and sarcastic person with a giant chip on my shoulder. I’ve been disappointed by the lack of playoff berths and disgusted by their performance in the few they have been in.

I watch them get whipped by the Minnesota Twins every year and shake my head when they place second or third in the Central Division.

I constantly get into arguments with my Cub-loving fianc about why people love the Cubs more than the White Sox. He says the Cubs are loveable losers. I respond by saying their fans are rich, drunk morons with nothing better to do.

Hence, I always look forward to next season.

But something happened this year – they got good, really good. And the chip on my shoulder started to slip.

While home this summer, I could feel a change. The better they got, the more they started to dominate the sports pages. The more games they won, the harder it got to get tickets.

As their lead climbed higher, more Sox hats became visible, but I cursed those who decided to jump on the bandwagon only because of their recent success. Sure, I got scared when the lead was cut to one and a half games, but I had a feeling that they wouldn’t let me down this time. And they didn’t, clinching the division in the second to last series of the season.

Of course the wildcard was Boston. Since there is an obscene amount of people from Massachusetts here, being the only one in black and white White Sox apparel I was overshadowed by a sea of red.

I could tell that Boston fans thought that my Sox were just a bump on the way to repeating their title, but I had faith, and luckily they pulled through with a sweep, including a 14-2 blowout in Game One.

Next were the Angels and, although General Manger Ozzie Guillen’s group surrendered the first game, they were able to come back strong and win in four straight games with amazing performances from their sturdy rotation, which is unbelievable considering the difficulties the White Sox usually have with West Coast teams. White Sox fans remember when the Seattle Mariners swept Chicago in the first round of the 2000 playoffs.

Now that my Sox are in their first World Series since 1959, and the sports world is pretty positive that they are going to win their first World Series in over 80 years, you have no idea how much I wish plane tickets weren’t so expensive.

I would definitely go back home to Chicago around 35th Street and celebrate with some drunken Sox fans – some of the best people in the world. My only comfort is knowing that the Cubs are closing in on a century of futility.

Last year, it was the Sox from Boston, and now it’s my Sox from the southside of Chicago. I have only one thing to say to the Astros – bring it and watch my chip finally fall.

Miller can be reached at smiller@campustimes.org.



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