What a horrible White Sox season can teach us all

For an athlete, few things could be more dispiriting than having the sports world debating whether your team is the worst of all time.
Win or lose, professional athletes make a lot of money. But even that can’t compensate for the blow to a competitive drive that propels so many of them to play.
And yet, this year’s Chicago White Sox, despite setting a record by losing 121 games, provide valuable lessons for even average Americans who discipline themselves to come to work on time each day for far less compensation.
These lessons can be summed up in two words: hope and pride.
As fan James Connelly of Arlington Heights told the Chicago Daily Herald, “Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you go up. Hope runs eternal.”
Indeed, it must. For many, giving up on their team is not an option, even if it loses 121 times in a single season. After all, the team did win 41 times. It’s a matter of perspective. Even Charlie Brown couldn’t say that. And fans do remember when the team made the playoffs in 2021. That wasn’t so long ago. It could happen again, someday … maybe.
As Chicago Tribune columnist Paul Sullivan wrote a few days ago, “Being the worst at something is not what we strive for, but it happens.”
Similarly, having bad days are not what average people strive for, but they happen, too, and sometimes far more often than we would like.
And yet, White Sox players woke up day after day this season, came to work, put on their uniforms and kept playing. Also, a collection of die-hard fans showed up for 81 home games, paying money to get in despite knowing the team had no chance of making the playoffs and little chance of winning that day. They weren’t necessarily happy, and they complained a lot, but people still showed up.
We’d like to think that at least some of that has to do with the love of the game. But some of it also had to do with hope — for a better outcome than in the game before and for a few of baseball’s elusive breaks to go the right way. And, concerning those players, at least, we’re convinced a lot of it had to do with pride.
Just like anyone with an average daily job, most players understand that the effort they give every day reflects more on them than on their employer. They know that a stellar performance day in and day out, even on a losing team, can lead to greater opportunities, valuable experience and a hard-earned positive reputation.
In contrast, playing on a winning team can be easy. The locker room is generally all smiles and good-natured jokes. For the most part, players welcome media interviews and bask in the cheers of packed stadiums.
Losing, and losing epically, is a tough grind. Team spirit can turn toxic. Fingers point in all directions. Critics abound on the field and in the stands. Hope and pride require discipline.
The Washington Post said outfielder Corey Julks, when asked what was the toughest part of the season, simply smiled and said, “I don’t know, man. No comment.”
In baseball, as in life, bad stretches can be filled with absurdities. The White Sox had infielders running into outfielders in pursuit of balls. They lost a game on a rare runner interference call.
In the midst of all this, the team’s owner has been trying to get taxpayer money for a new stadium, which some people also consider absurd.
The White Sox did not, however, end up with three men on third base as the old Brooklyn Dodgers famously did on Aug. 15, 1926. For years after, whenever the Dodgers had three men on base, some wisecracker would inevitably respond with, “Which base?”
Avoiding that ineptitude may provide at least some solace, but it also exemplifies what may be the best response to an awful, horrible season, a bad stretch at work or a string of bad luck in life — laughter.
“You have to have a sense of humor,” pitcher Davis Martin told ESPN. “You walk that fine line of being on the edge of losing your mind — always on that razor’s edge. We’re just watching it all, and we’re like, oh my gosh, this happens and this happens.”
So, add humor to hope and pride in one’s own efforts. In life, as in sports, bad times don’t last forever, but those things remain essential.