It didn't matter. I was with good buds, good beer (Revolution and Half Acre, local brews) in great seats. The Sox played poorly—there were impatient at-bats, embarrassing fielding, Danks's lousy, junky outing—but the weather was gorgeous, and Tyler Flowers's hard-hit homer to left, which plated Gordon Beckham who was on second after a loud double, in the ninth, was just the kind of funny, too-little-too-late, boo!-and-yay! offense that characterizes a bush league game for an average team having an average season. And for that matter, it characterizes the game of baseball. There will always be something to cheer about if you wait out a game, among both friends and strangers, believers and cynics. It's a truism as old as the sun glinting off of US Cellular Field.
|Too little, too late|
|Photo of a forlorn John Danks by John J. Kim for Chicago Tribune|