Not the Sox, that’s who.
- The 35th Street Review. A blog about Chicago White Sox baseball. [More]
-

-

Archives
-
"They had a chance to trade me and they didn't. Now they are stuck with me."
- Jaime Navarro, 1999
The most annoying part of your baseball experience, now made even more so.
Coming soon to a sports page near you.
The worst thing that could have happened to the White Sox didn’t. But that’s still a sad way to end up.
Our former president once joked that C students could one day become president themselves, to which your editor asks: why bother with politics when you could be the next Ken Vining? Part five in a series.
Even when there are two, there can be only one, and you already know who it is. Part four in a series.
At the decade’s end, it really only matters what you value. Hilarity, for example, can be a reasonable substitute for pride. Part three in a series.
Jeff at Royally Speaking asked for some sage wisdom on his favorite team’s newest treasure from the South Side scrapyard. As much as I hate to ruin a surprise, this one would only ruin itself. Surprise! [Royally Speaking]
When are 96 wins no better than 90, and when are they even worse than 89 (which were technically 88 in the first place)? When you’re the Chicago White Sox, that’s when. Part two in a series.
Juan Pierre isn’t this and he isn’t that; Juan Pierre just is.
The Sox’ newest arm is also their oldest.
The past three weeks are every reason I often hate being a White Sox fan.
True greatness knows not the confinement of halls nor shall it be caged by the rules and whims of men; rather, let greatness roam free; free to grow and prosper for all of eternity.