Right over the plate and into the catcher’s glove, White Sox leadoff man Miguel Vargas watched it go.
The record will show it was Angels lefty Yusei Kukuchi who struck out Vargas in the first Sox at-bat of what promises to be a long, hard slog of a season.
My own record will show it took all of one Sox at-bat before my mind began to drift back to better days for the South Siders … for example, to the last time a Sox season began with a leadoff batter hitting safely.
It was 2020, and Tim Anderson greeted it with a base hit to left. Yoan Moncada followed that with a double. An inning later, Eloy Jimenez singled, Luis Robert Jr. — on the first pitch of his first career at-bat — got a hit, Anderson got another one and Moncada, what did he do? He jacked a three-run homer. Goodness gracious. The young Sox, with a lineup to be truly excited about, were on their way. Fans weren’t there to see or hear it due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but a window seemingly larger than all of what was then called Guaranteed Rate Field was cranking open.
That was then. Robert is the only member of that playoff-bound 2020 team who’s still on the Sox. First baseman Andrew Vaughn didn’t reach the big leagues until the following season. All the others are elsewhere. Anderson was in the Angels lineup on Opening Day at what’s now called Rate Field, where the only guarantee is that no one will look at this 2025 squad and confuse it for an up-and-comer despite an 8-1 victory. Moncada, likewise a new Angel, pinch-hit in the eighth inning.
Things change fast when you’re a fan of a major-league club as challenging to root for as the Sox, especially those things that are good. That’s why one could look around baseball Thursday, see that three ex-Sox — the Braves’ Chris Sale, the Yankees’ Carlos Rodon and the Red Sox’ Garrett Crochet — were making Opening Day starts and say, “Well, that figures.” The rebuilding Sox, meanwhile, sent to the mound Sean Burke, owner of three previous big-league starts. Well, that figured, too.
But some things never change. Before the start of the Sox opener, one of those things was the Rivera family tailgate. Three and a half hours before first pitch, I got out of my car and spotted them in Lot E. It was approximately as difficult as spotting an onrushing army, because there were as many dozens of them as I had fingers.
Sam Rivera, 55, is the originator. The first family tailgate on Opening Day was in 1998, in the backyard of Sam’s apartment on 33rd St. in Bridgeport. After a while, it moved along with Sam to the backyard of his place on Lowe Ave. in Canaryville. Not until 11 years ago, by which time Sam had moved to Indiana, did it move to the ballpark lots.
David Rivera, 45, goes halfsies every year with cousin Sam on — are you ready for this? — 64 Opening Day tickets. Between their own households and their brimming extended family, there are enough eager hands to take them all. Some of the “family” are technically dear old friends, but that word is most meaningful when used loosely anyway, isn’t it?
The tailgate has drawn dozens more Sox fans through the years who’ve made sure to come back, for so many reasons. To name a few: pork and chicken kabobs, skirt steak, sausage and beef sandwiches, burgers and wings, bacon-wrappened jalapeños, tantalizing elotes and — ah, yes — copious, glorious Bloody Mary’s.
“You want one?” multiple Riveras offered.
Can’t. Working.
“Have a workday Bloody, then,” one suggested.
Only in Chicago.
Don’t they realize they’re making such a fuss over the worst team in baseball?
“I tell people it doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “It’s Opening Day. It’s a holiday. Regardless of what the team did, it’s a tradition. We’re going to be here regardless.”
And David: “Regardless of winning or losing, what the record is or what it’s not, we’re here Opening Day to celebrate. It’s a new year, and we’re all in first place.”
These Riveras don’t have their heads in the asphalt; they know enough not to be optimistic about the coming Sox season. But their tailgate spanned the width of nine family cars parked side-by-side, and that’s only because a handful of the other vehicles had to be parked a row or two away. An American flag flew above a Sox flag from a pole attached to one of their passenger doors.
The ages in the group ranged from 7 to 75, the oldest being Sam’s father. David’s dad recently died, missing the tailgate for the first time.
Some things really ought to last forever.
