I would like to share a story with you about blueberry donuts and how I became a White Sox fan.

THREAD (1/11)

When I was 6 years old, my Dad passed away in drunk driving accident. He was the only one involved. Crashed a crotch rocket into a ditch.

That summer, I would spend some time at my Grandma and Grandpa's house in Bradenton, Florida (2/11)

Even at an early age I was getting into sports. I was a big football fan thanks to my family but I hadn't discovered baseball yet.

That changed with my Grandpa. He bought me a cheap plastic glove and taught me how to throw. (3/11)

One of my favorite early memories was while playing catch, my Grandpa threw a fly ball. When you are that young everything in the air seems like it's a mile high. I'm sure it was maybe 5 feet in the air. (4/11)

But I caught it! And I'll never forget the joy heard in my Grandpa's voice. "Hey! You should be a center fielder!"

That was my position from Little League to High School. Thanks to my Grandpa. (5/11)

Sometimes I got to tag along with my Grandpa while he worked. I believe he was selling real estate at that time. We always stopped for breakfast so he can get a cup of coffee.

For me, it was chocolate milk and a blueberry donut. (6/11)

During breakfast he would read the newspaper, and that's when he taught me to read box scores.

Later, he would take me to my first baseball game to see the Sarasota White Sox at Ed Walsh Stadium.
(7/11)

I don't remember much from the game, but I remember the mosquitoes.

My uncle lived close to my grandparents, and while staying over he introduced me to the Chicago White Sox. It was the first time watching them on WGN, and it was against the Milwaukee Brewers. (8/11)

Then when my Mom remarried, my new Dad got me into baseball cards and my first pack had a Frank Thomas rookie card. At this time, we lived in Champaign, IL and watched more White Sox baseball at my Aunt's house. This is the "Good Guys Wear Black" era. (9/11)

Then my family moved to Wisconsin. Only sporadically I was able to watch the White Sox but kept track how they were doing every day reading box scores.

Next was the 1993 team. Then Frank Thomas getting his own shoes and video game. I was set for life. (10/11)

But thanks to my Grandpa, I discovered baseball and the White Sox. He passed away in 1998, but I always try to have a blueberry donut on Opening Day in his honor.

I figured the first postseason appearance in 12 years would be a good time, too.

Let's go, White Sox.

- Fin -