I Took a Year off baseball, and you can, too. But, maybe don’t just yet

| (Di Billick/South Side Sox) Last season, overwhelmed by the pandemonium both on the field and in the world at large, I took a yearlong break from baseball. The scores were pinned to my home screen, but not a single full game was broadcast in my home. For the first time since 2003, I was tuned out.

I got so much accomplished with my extra time, and was riding that dopamine dragon, fueled by my toiler to-do lists and my Capricorn moon ( Aquarius sun, Leo rising, for those who know ). My dad and I joked about being bandwagon fans when we landed on the conclusion of taking a break, but qualifying anyone else’s fandom is peak cringe, and gatekeeping isn’t for me. Join the club, or don’t, it’s not my business.

Still, it felt wrong to miss games, like I was abandoning a part of myself, my history and my city. I wouldn’t have been able to forsake the White Sox without my dad doing the same at the same time, and he also didn’t see a single game in its entirety. It stressed us out.

Although I kept tabs on the White Sox and their offseason moves, I still felt an acute sense of dread when considering recommitting to my fandom. I used to love and defend this team, but I no longer could fall upon the sword, especially with the specter of Mike Clevinger casting a foul shadow over the organization. Watching games became an albatross, and obligation to something that fucking sucks is a death knell for creative energy.