Being a White Sox fan is basically a mental disease: We exist in a state of delusion where we convince ourselves things will change, that our situation will get better, and time and again we’re left sniffing the same trash as before — only it’s a year moldier.
As self-help therapy fighting the repeated White Sox ravaging of my psyche, I’m committing to writing a multi-part series on the virulent disease that is rooting for the 2022 Chicago White Sox. It is dangerous because it comes at you from so many different angles, and each one inflicts pain in its own insidious way.