By Roger Wallenstein
Life may simply be a series of choices, but some are easier than others.
When I was a just a kid of six or seven, our family moved to suburban Chicago from Cincinnati. The choice of Sox versus Cubs was an obvious one. The Sox were a good team. The Cubs weren’t, and we were frontrunners.
For all I know, our dad never saw an American League game until he drove us to Comiskey Park for the first time. Since the Reds were his National League team, he never said boo about us becoming Cub fans even though we lived on the North Shore.
In the grander scheme of things, this sort of choice ranks below choosing a career, how best to parent children, or whether to drink light beer. You might want to put being a faithful, loving spouse who makes healthy decisions in your top two or three.
Nevertheless, picking the White Sox more than 60 years ago clearly goes into my “life-changer” column.
Posted on May 12, 2014