“Some achieve greatness, some have greatness thrust upon them…

…and others… well, they’re just great.”

When I was knee high to a grasshopper, I loved sitting on the porch in the summer watching baseball with my grandfather. He was born a Reds fan and became a Cubs fan, but the thing he liked most about the WGN broadcasts was making fun of Harry Caray. My grandpa called him, “Liver Lips.” One day during a game my grandfather reached down and put his Cubs hat on my head. I was an extremely cognitive kid, and I understood the Hallmark-esque moment we were sharing. For 35 minutes, I joined him in rooting for the Cubs. Then my father walked in.

“Art, you take that thing off my son’s head, NOW.” He pulled me aside and in a tone so as not to alarm me but still convey the seriousness, said, “Tuck, we’re White Sox fans. I understand you want to sit with your grandfather, but try not to pick up any of his bad habits.”

The point is, my daughter was born into this. Baseball is coming.

Great minds think alike, and so do Jake Peavy and I.

Jake Peavy and yours truly have finally agreed on something: Ozzie Guillen quit on the White Sox. Basically, he pulled a Lou Piniella.

(Although Jake and I do share some hobbies.)

Today, Ozzie Guillen shot back at Peavy. Ozzie accused Jake Peavy of quitting on the team in early September, forgetting that he did the exact same thing himself a few weeks later. What became clear in the end of Ozzie’s run with the White Sox is that Ozzie had one goal in mind: the success of Ozzie Guillen. That often aligned with the team’s and the city’s goals, but when it didn’t, things got ugly. Jake Peavy may be a horse’s ass who couldn’t open a twist off beer bottle without pulling a tendon and needed 6 weeks of rehab, but by God, he nailed it here.   

I think Jake Peavy is a bum and I think Ozzie is a bum, but however much these two continue to go back and forth today, the point goes to Peavy in this round. Ozzie gave up, plain and simple. That is NEVER acceptable, whether we’re talking baseball or life. Peavy may have done the same thing, but a player is a little different than the manager. That’s like getting mad at a toddler for complaining about going to bed. Kids don’t know any better.

Enjoy Florida with the rest of the retirees, Ozzie.

Birth of a Natal II: Let’s Wait Over Here Now

We have been moved to the Britney Spears Room, a nice corner LDR with a view of Jerry’s Deli and a slightly larger couch for me to try and sleep on. As of this press time, I have been awake for 32 1/2 hours and we’re not even in official “labor.” It looks like Jerry’s Deli is hopping….

It’s also dawned on me that we’re not making the Christmas Due date. I was very excited to have my daughter share her birthday with White Sox Hall of Famer Nellie Fox, especially since my daughter is going to be the first female US President to play Short Stop for the White Sox. That’s a two pronged goal, by the way. Someone else may be the first female president, and someone else may break the gender barrier in MLB, but only my daughter will do BOTH. Well as it turns out, she is now in line to share a birthday with Carlton Fisk. This is… exceptional.

I hope I don’t have to look up birthdays for the 27th. Let’s do this!

Dear Mr. President,

Dear @barackobama,

I can’t make it to dinner with you. I know you’ve been after me for quite some time now, wanting to grab a bite and talk about the White Sox (Robin Ventura is a nice PR move, but it’s just too early to tell. Looks like Kenny wanted somebody he could control, amiright?), but I just have far too much going on lately. I’m shooting a flick, my wife is pregnant, it just ain’t possible.

Now you’re trying to guilt me into attending by saying you’re bringing Michelle. I know Shelly and the Redhead have oodles to talk about but again, we just have too much going on. It’s nothing personal, it’s just a bad time.

Say hi to the kids for us, enjoy your holidays, and for the love of God, STOP EMAILING ME TWICE A DAY. There are a lot of other things going on right now that may require your attention.

Sincerely,

Tucker Blogs

Breaking up is hard to do…

Rumors are flying that Ozzie Guillen is managing his final game for the White Sox at this very moment.

Yes, I have been in support of a personnel change. Still, it’s a hard thing to go through. It’s nothing personal. Ozzie brought a presence the White Sox needed. He brought us a World Series Championship. He also brought a lot of headaches. Like Hunter S. Thompson said, “bet with your head, not with your heart.” My heart still likes Ozzie, but my head tells me he GONE.

If this were a beer league, then Ozzie could manage for another 50 years. If they were making the decision based on PR and team image, he’d be here for decades to come. But they’re not. They’re basing it on performance. Baseball has an incredibly short term memory. So what if you hit 3 homeruns yesterday? It’s about today now. Changes have to be made. Ozzie needs to go. This could all be rumor, and it could all amount to nothing more than a clever contract negotiation on Guillen’s part. Tomorrow may bring the announcement that his contract has been extended. I doubt it, but it could.

Goodbye, Ozzie. We’ll always have Journey.

It’s the Time of the Season.

This has been a toying and taxing baseball season for the Chicago White Sox. Every time they seemed to be pulling it together, they fell apart. Every time they seemed out of it, a glimmer of hope would appear. The seesaw swinging above and below an even record left the fanbase feeling abused, dejected, but still in love. We love the Sox, but we made them hit us. Or we fell down some stairs. Either way, we need therapy or an article in Cosmo to help us regain our self worth.

So who’s the abuser? Who has put us in the panicky state of doubt, mistrust, and unwarranted hope? Only one man has consistently and incessantly demanded it’s him: Ozzie Guillen. He said it in 2004, he said it in 2006 and 2009. Last April, he even flat out stated that he should be fired. At this point, it’s not a bad idea. 

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The South Side of Frustration

I can’t bite my tongue any longer. It’s time to address some issues that have been plaguing the South Side. I’m no expert, but then again, neither was Columbo. (Or was he?)

(Not Christopher Columbo. His brother, Lieutenant.)

After briefly hitting an even .500 record for the 2nd time this season, they lost it just as quickly. The Sox have dropped their last 6 games, doing so immediately after the front offices gave them a vote of confidence just before the trade deadline. This is the latest in a long line of subtle clues to mold growing in the team’s foundation.

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