Tag: Sports

Back Together Again

Am I Making a Familiar Mistake?

It’s nice welcoming old friends back into my life. Friends who once mattered a great deal to me, but whom I’d barely thought about for the past three years. I ignored them because they had become boring, with nothing left to offer me. And honestly, I had nothing for them either. That’s just the way it goes sometimes.

But this year I told some people that I was willing to give the estranged relationship another chance. Maybe something could be rekindled.

And at least for now, it seems I was right.

The White Sox are back in my life.

I was five years old, living in Rogers Park, when I shared my secret with my father: I was a White Sox fan. I had no idea then how many years of frustration awaited me, growing up surrounded by Cubbie blue. Still, I clung tightly to my heroes through the collapse of 1967, the swagger and fall of the 1978 South Side Hitmen, and the near-miss of the “Winning Ugly” team in 1983.

My reward finally came with the 2005 World Series Championship, which allowed White Sox fans eleven full years of superiority before the Cubs finally won one too. But the last twenty years of Sox fandom have mostly been drab, and the previous three have been a calamity, a parade of not-ready-for-prime-time players losing more than 100 games each season.

Then the White Sox ownership made a key offseason move, signing young Japanese slugger Munetaka Murakami. The buzz was loud enough that it reached even strayed fans like me. It was time to pay attention.

It’s not easy to follow the White Sox. Most of their television broadcasts require a premium sports package I choose not to pay for. Their radio broadcasts are blacked out on my digital devices, and somewhere along the line I stopped owning an actual radio capable of receiving AM1000. Still, I have been following the season in the Tribune and receive a daily White Sox Google alert to let me know the score.

So far, my efforts have been rewarded. The White Sox were off to their best start in years, leading into last weekend’s Cub-Sox series at Rate Field. Those three games were broadcast on a local television station, and Sunday gave me my first chance to actually watch the team play.

In one of the most exciting games I’ve seen in years, the Sox and Cubs battled back and forth into extra innings before the White Sox finally emerged with a 9-8 victory.

With that game, the Sox officially hooked me in for the rest of the season. Or at least until their first ten-game losing streak.

It’s always a joy to welcome an old friend home. Even when experience tells me I better not tget too attached.

Challenges in Sports: Why ‘Nice Shot, Les!’ Stings | RaffStuff Blog

I hear it in the morning. I hear it in the evening. I even hear it in my sleep. Three little words said over and over again. It’s enough to drive a man crazy.

What are the words that have that effect on me? What utterance sends shivers down my spine? You might think it is “Wrong again, Les.” That’s the phrase my son claims that the late, great, Alex Trebeck used ruthlessly and repeatedly on my single Jeopardy! appearance. However, my review of the gameshow videotape indicates that Alex never said that, not even once. Therefore those three words don’t bother me a bit. They are just a bit of fiction.

But the phrase that truly gets to me isn’t ‘Wrong again, Les.’ It’s ‘Nice shot, Les!’ My friends say it to me. Casual acquaintances say it too, usually with sincerity but always with a hint of amazement. These folks mean no harm — they believe they are being supportive. So I smile, nod my head, and mumble my response.

An opponent said it yesterday during pickleball. With a slight variation a friend said it while we were bowling. And I know someone in my threesome will say it today by the 4th hole of our nine-hole round of golf.*

Why is this phrase such a dagger to my heart? Whether it’s in pickleball, golf, or tennis, it is usually uttered after I have muffed five or six shots in a row, and then finally hit a semi-decent forehand, tee shot, or lob. That’s when a chorus fills the air, as everyone in shouting distance proclaims “Nice shot, Les!”

I know everyone means well as they chime in. But the goodwill rides on a current of “we know you have trouble playing this game well and we are just a bit surprised you managed to make that shot!”

I really can’t blame anyone for having that sentiment. Despite a love of competition, lessons galore, and practicing whenever I can, I have never excelled at sports. Hand-eye coordination is lacking, as is the ability to shift my weight to get power behind any of my serves or drives. And as my bowling partner has lectured me many times, my follow-throughs aren’t too hot either.

But I’m a blue-eyed optimist. So, I’ll keep swinging, hitting, and rolling, all the while hearing those three infamous words. Maybe one day, they’ll be said without surprise, but with genuine admiration. Until then, keep cheering, and I’ll keep smiling—’Nice shot, Les!'”

*Post-script: I was on the ninth hole before I hit a good one today. However, it was a beauty. I’ll say it for you. “Nice shot, Les!”