In my recent post about the Sox winning it all, I made it sound like I’ve always been a Cubs fan. I like it that way. But my Dad had to comment, “remember the “Frank Thomas†years – always a Cub fan…not in those, albeit brief, formative years.”
It’s true, I’m sorry to say, I once was a Sox fan. Now I think that Dad is mentioning this because he, an avowed Cubs fan, defected to the South Side by about mid-April. Although maybe that’s the hallmark of a Cubs fan — an ability to recognize quickly when the season is toast.
But back to me. I was a Sox fan. I had a Sox jacket and some Sox posters. But I attribute that to two things. One is that Frank Thomas was pretty much The Man in every way in those days. And secondly, in a different way, Dad was “the man,” and I had to go against him. It might not seem like much, but to denounce the Cubs in g.o.d.’s house (that’s “good old dad” for those scoring at home) was not small potatoes.
So there you have it. I absolve myself of all blame or responsibility for being a Sox fan in my formative years.
But in my defense, my earliest most vivid baseball memory was the 1989 LCS pitting the Cubs vs. the Giants. Greg Maddux on the mound, the ball coming out of his hand and dancing over the plate, foiling the Giants lineup all night long. It was amazing. And still is.
