GO TO PREVIOUS SECTION: November 16 to November 22

PART VI, continued

November 23rd to November 29th

November 23, 2005

When comparing Indianapolis to Chicago, one of the first differences that Meghan and I noticed was the drivers. Everybody in Indy drives slow and awkwardly. It’s like all of the worst qualities of driving in South Beach with your grandparents have been transplanted into the drivers in Indy. Old, young, male, female, black, white, Hispanic, Asian: it doesn’t matter. Meg and I are used to drivers being fast, efficient, and rude. These people are slow, unskilled, and unbearably polite, like a great aunt who just won’t get off the phone because she wants to know how everything is going.

So it was of great comfort when we pulled off of the Skyway on the Stony Island exit and into Hyde Park and were immediately cut off by a cabbie, and then shortly there after, a station wagon.

“Ah,” Meghan said, smiling. “We’re home.”

The disappointing news upon our return home? The White Sox’s 2005 season, World Series and all, is officially in the books, as Kenny Williams has shipped Aaron Rowand to the Phillies for (aging) slugging first baseman and former Cleveland Indian Jim Thome. I understand the deal. The Sox are in a bind with Konerko, who, after his remarkable postseason, is going to test the free agent market. He is the biggest name floating around, and has already garnered attention from, among others, the (2002 champion) Angels and the (2004 champion) Red Sox, both of whom appear to be taking on a “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” mentality. Paulie would be crazy not to return to the Sox, where he’ll be paid handsomely and have a chance to go down as one of the great Chicago sports heroes of all-time, but crazier things have happened. So Williams protected himself by acquiring Thome, and while he had to deal Rowand, he felt confident in center with young Brian Anderson on his way up. The Sox may still resign Konerko, and you can bet that either Thome or Frank will be hurt for part of this year, so it’s a good insurance move for the White Sox.

Baseball-wise, I understand it.

On the other hand, you’ve just won a World Series. Why mess with karma? I’m not saying that Williams isn’t trying to get Konerko back—apparently, there is a four-year, 52 million dollar deal on the table—but why even look for insurance, and why trade Rowand, a guy who solidified the center field spot?

But that’s just me. I spoke with Luke about the trade, and he was ecstatic. He likes Anderson, and although he liked Rowand, he knows that Rowand was around for his glove, and the White Sox are in need of another bat. A lineup with Thome, Konerko, and Dye at 3-4-5 is nothing to sneeze at, and in Luke’s eyes, getting Thome does not mean that they will for sure lose Konerko.

This is all well and good, and I wish the White Sox the best of luck, but my feeling is this: why mess with a good thing? You can’t win a World Series by getting lucky. It just doesn’t happen. Over the course of 162 games, talent rises to the top, so to even make the baseball playoffs you have to be very good. Then to roll through three talented clubs like the Red Sox, Angels, and Astros…that’s impressive work. The Sox’ acceptance of Konerko’s possible departure bothers me; if they lose Konerko, there is zero chance that they will repeat.

This sort of offseason is part of a disturbing trend over the last few years in baseball. The Marlins won the Series in 2003 behind an MVP performance from Pudge Rodriguez. They let him go to Detroit, and they are now in the midst of yet another Florida fire sale, one that I hope ends with the Marlins relocating to a city that actually cares about baseball. The Red Sox won the Series in 2004, and then lost Pedro, Derek Lowe, and Orlando Cabrera. And now, less than a month removed from Game 4, the White Sox have traded one starter and are preparing for the departure of their team leader.

Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Konerko will stay and Anderson will be great and Thome will be an offensive lift. Maybe the White Sox will be the first team since the 1998-2000 Yankees to repeat. Maybe.

November 24, 2005

If I had to pick one day as my final day on Earth, it would definitely be a Thanksgiving. It’s everything a person could want. It brings together family and friends, even those who live in other cities and states. It pays respect to the importance of sports, while keeping it in perspective. It is loaded with fun and reflection. It celebrates sports. It celebrates America. It celebrates life. What more could you want?

My Thanksgiving began today as every Thanksgiving begins: waking up in my own bed at home. Although Meghan and I usually sleep at her house when we’re in town—they have the comfier guest bed—I’ve slept at home on the eve of Thanksgiving for the past two years. No matter how old I get, there’s always something about sleeping in my own bed. We have family over every year, so when I wake up my mom is already getting dinner prepared. I woke up at eight, showered, and got ready for football at ten.

A year ago, our annual Thanksgiving football game was low. Sven was in Germany, his brother Will was sick, and Josh was in New York. Meanwhile, while we normally have four or five “guests” to go along with the ten-plus year regulars, last year featured nobody new. It was a small game, and though it was fun as it always is, we knew that this year would be the return to glory.

And it was. I was there, along with Mike, Sven, Will, Luke, Josh, Rota, Ben, Ben’s brother Daniel, and two of Ben’s friends. (Ric goes to southern Illinois every year with his family.) Even though Sven’s parents moved two years ago, we still play at the field behind Sven’s old house. To our disappointment, the house has been repainted.

“It just doesn’t look good in green,” said Sven, shaking his head.

It was pretty cold this morning, though it didn’t stop us from having a fun game. A year ago, there were some other people from the neighborhood at the field, and since there were only six of us, we decided to join up with them. It was weird. I was thankful that they incorporated us, but it just wasn’t the same. In their game, offense consisted of set plays, with blockers and “release receievers”; in our game, offensive play calling consisted of “everybody get open.” Their defense consisted of complicated zone coverages and blitz schemes; our defense consisted of “everybody take a man.” They played two hand touch, and even punted once on fourth down. We play drag-em-down tackle, and the only punting that goes on happens when somebody accidentally gets kicked while carrying the ball.

This year, we were back to our usual game. Five downs for the whole field, five-1,000 rush, one blitz, tackle anything that moves. Basically, it’s a chance for us to all hang out, and revert back to our middle school days. There is no set score or time limit; rather, we play until we’re sore and tired and happy enough to call it a game.

Afterwards, MJ and I headed home. We washed up, and then played Madden while being On Call for my mom. Whatever she needed, we were on it. The holidays used to stress my mom out. There were some family issues for a few years, as there always are in families, and I remember being very upset for a while that we weren’t going to be seeing certain family members anymore. But our table grew with long time friends, friends who now seem like family, and I feel fortunate to be so blessed with so many loved ones.

The NFL has also moved on. When I was growing up, it seemed as if the Bears traveled to Detroit every year to play the Lions on Thanksgiving. It was always Detroit and Dallas who hosted Thanksgiving games, and it was almost always the Bears who obliged as Detroit’s opponent. Those days are over now, but still I’ve grown to love watching Detroit and Dallas host these games. Traditions are comforting, even when they don’t include the Bears.

Finally, after a few games of Madden, the evening began. I drove to Chicago to pick up Uncle Larry, Nana came over with appetizers, and a young teacher who works with my mom at Orrington came as well. She is from Buffalo, and as she was unable to make it home for Thanksgiving, my mom invited her to our house instead. Some of our other friends who we are normally with couldn’t make it this year, but just being with my brother, my parents, Nana, and Uncle Larry was enough for me. And knowing that we could share our home and our dinner with somebody who couldn’t be with her own family, well, these are the moments that remind us all why clichés are so abundant. The night was filled with laughter, jokes, stories, smiles, and lots and lots of food; it was a night that was repeated all across America, and yet one that only happened in our home, because that’s where we all were.

******

There is a negative tinge to Thanksgiving, of course, as it is impossible to think of this holiday without thinking about the slaughtering of Indians. Our country is founded on the blood of others, and there’s nothing we can do about it. But there is good in this holiday, as the people who truly celebrate it use it as an opportunity to reflect upon all of the good in our lives, all of the people who make us happy, and all of the opportunities that we have to make the lives of others as rich as our own. What we do with those opportunities is up to us, and in that sense, Thanksgiving is truly an American holiday.

November 29, 2005

From the pages of ESPN.com:

PHILADELPHIA -- A man arrested for running onto the field at Sunday’s Philadelphia Eagles game said he was spreading his late mother's ashes at Lincoln Financial Field, police said.

Christopher Noteboom, 33, of Tempe, Ariz., ran onto the field holding a plastic bag in his outstretched right arm, leaving a cloud of fine powder in his wake. As he reached the 30-yard line, he dropped to his knees and made the sign of the cross before laying down on his stomach. Security personnel reached him moments later and he offered no resistance as he was escorted from the field.

Noteboom, a native of Doylestown, said the substance was the ashes of his dead mother, a longtime Eagles fan who died of emphysema in January 2005, shortly before the Eagles’ Super Bowl appearance.

“She never cared for any other team except the Eagles,” Noteboom told WPVI-TV after he was released from custody on Monday.

“I know that the last handful of ashes I had are laying on the field, and will never be taken away. She’ll always be part of Lincoln Financial Field and of the Eagles,” he said.

Noteboom, a bar owner in Arizona, was charged with defiant trespass. He has a hearing scheduled for Dec. 27.

“It’s bizarre, but we have a zero tolerance for people who run on the field,” said Police Inspector William Colarulo. “We especially have a zero tolerance for people who run onto the field and dump an unknown substance in a stadium full of people.”

Colarulo said police also recovered a box of what they believe are some of the ashes of Noteboom’s mother.

Eagles spokeswoman Bonnie Grant said the team has had requests to spread ashes in the past, but does not permit it.

******

The win over Carolina has left the Bears as the new media darling among NFL pundits. You can’t open a sports page or go online without seeing an article about our defense, and since everybody loves a great story, the angle has been the rise of the Bears’ defense on the twenty-year anniversary season of the ’85 Bears. Everywhere you look, it’s all about matching up this year’s team with the ’85 team, and while the comparisons are extraordinarily tiring at this point—especially when you consider that the ’86 team had a better defensive season statistically than did the ’85 team—they remind me of the point that Ed O’Bradovich made after the Week 2 win over Detroit: the talk was always about the ’63 team, and the ’85 team got so fed up with that, they went out and won their own championship.

Now it’s our turn.

First off: the Buccaneers. That was fun. We went into Tampa two days ago and nearly chased them off their own field, with Alex Brown (2 sacks, 1 forced fumble, 4 batted balls) and Ogunleye (2 sacks) leading the charge. The Bears won a close one, 13-10, but this was not a lucky win. This game reminded me a lot of the Baltimore game—albeit in better weather: in both games we showed that we know what it takes to WIN games, as opposed to just letting the other team lose them.

So we’re looking good, but this is Chicago, and despite the remarkable year that our teams in all sports have had, and despite the dominant play of the Bears this season, we still have a long way to go. Pittsburgh and Atlanta await us, as does Minnesota on January 1^st in the final game of the season. Those games will all be great tests for the Bears, but the games that really have me pumped/freaked are the two with Green Bay, the first of which is this coming Sunday.

On paper, this is a no-brainer. The Bears are 8-3, the Packers are 2-9. The Bears are at home, they are healthy, and they are on fire. The Packers are, well, 2-9. And yet…

Today’s poll question from Chicagosports.com:

“Are you worried about the Bears playing a 2-9 Packers team?”

RESPONSES:

75.8% (3444 votes) answered “Yes, anything can happen in this rivalry.”

24.2 % (1100 votes) answered “No, the Bears will win their 8th straight.”

This is what rivalries do. They make people crazy. They negate rational thought. They reverse logic. And when your team has been on the short end of the rivalry for the better part of fifteen years, you question everything.

We don’t just “throw out the record books” when the Bears play the Packers. We throw out the streaks, talent gap, weather, stadium, fans, and all of the common sense in the world.

This is sports logic.

Check the real world at the door.

******

I’m watching PTI when Dan calls.

“Hey there.”

“Heeeeeey, how ya doing?”

“Terrific. You?”

“Oh, I’m good.” And he begins. “Calling to confirm: who exactly are the Big Tens for 2006? I listed it out and counted twelve, but I wanted to make sure, and I knew you’d know.”

“Yeah sure. Uh, you count. Me, Shlensky, Jacob, Ari, Frost, Byron, Hamer, Shmerling, Little Glick, Lerman, Silberman, and Tilis. How many was that?”

“That was twelve.”

“And thar ya go.”

“Twelve…”

“Yeah. That’s a lot. But it’s not guaranteed that everyone will come back. Byron’s gonna be a tough sell. Hamer has said he’s definitely not coming back. You never know about Shmerling, though I think he’ll be back, and the younger guys are a toss-up.”

“True.”