Leave it to our White Sox to end 2010 embroiled in another controversy. We couldn’t leave well enough alone with an outstanding offseason. Instead, we enter the new year with Oneygate II.
If his tweeting about Kenny Williams in spring training didn’t cause enough strain on the South Side, Oney, Ozzie‘s 24-year-old son, decided to take it upon himself with multple tweets to respond to Bobby Jenks‘s parting shot about the manager’s inability to handle a bullpen.
Oney, who left the White Sox after the spring training fiasco, divulged some personal informaton that heretofore was not made public–about Jenks’s drinking and marital problems and the fact that the fleshy reliever once broke down in tears in the manager’s office. It’s not exactly the kind of thing that would make members of the Sox trust that their own “within the clubhouse walls” issues wouldn’t be made public.
We love our White Sox, but let’s face it, we shouldn’t be surprised. Our long tenure as a charter member of the American League is marked more by controversy and a fun time at the ballpark than championships on the playing field, though we have had our successes. We diehards accept it, embrace it and carry it as a badge of honor. We’re NOT the Yankees, but we have our own customs and traditions and are proud of who we are.
* We’re the team that threw the 1919 World Series (pictured above).
* We’re the team, historically speaking, that has arguably the least amount of legendary players.
* We’re the team that people tend to ignore. The Sox? Oh, they’re in Boston. Chicago? Isn’t that the home of those lovable Cubbies and the shrine they call home?
* We were the team of master showman Bill Veeck and his exploding scoreboard, midget spacemen, original outfield shower, cow-milking contests and short pants.
* We’re the team that prompted the air raid sirens to go off in 1959–scaring the bejeezus out of the local citizenry–after the Go-Go Sox won their first A.L. pennant in 40 years.
* We’re the team that hosted the disastrous Disco Demolition Night.
* We’re the ones who boasted the South Side Hitmen.
* We’re the ones who won the A.L. West by 20 games in 1983 by “Winning Ugly.” Don’t get me started about Tito Landrum.
* We’re the ones who, because of attendance woes, played a handful of games in Milwaukee in 1968, almost moved there, and were on the verge of heading to St. Petersburg before the agreement was made to build the New Comiskey Park, now the Cell.
So, the Oney Guillen saga is just another chapter in a somewhat bizarre, but certainly entertaining, history that has been much more palatable after the glorious October of 2005.
Accept it. Embrace it.