In a recent taping of my TV show, my guest, sports connoisseur and Colorado Governor Bill Owens heard I was a Chicago White Sox fan and teased me because he assumed I was a fair-weather fan -- one of those sports enthusiasts who glom onto a team only after it becomes a winner after avoiding years of suffering so many "true fans" experience. We were in the studios of PBS Station KBDI-TV Channel 12 and surrounded by staff members who knew better. One piped up, "Aaron was a Bat Boy for the White Sox," kindly not detailing how many decades ago I held that lofty position. The Governor -- one of Colorado's biggest sports fans and himself the host of a monthly television sports show on the Altitude cable 24-hour sports channel -- quickly recanted and recognized the viability of my enthusiasm for the Sox.

I never did find out if the Governor favors the White Sox but their success created a family controversy for me this year. The American League Championship Series initially divided my house because my 11 year-old daughter roots for the Boston Red Sox (that's the "other Sox team -- there's "the Sox" which, in my opinion, are the White Sox, and then there is "the Red Sox"). Last year, the Sox went nowhere and were a big disappointment. The Red Sox went all the way and won the A.L. pennant and the World Series. This year, the Sox swept the Red Sox in three games to easily win the best-of-five series so we could root together as a family as the Sox took out the Los Angeles Angels four games to one, in the best-of-seven American League Championship Series.

The situation made me think that, if peace can be had between Red Sox and White Sox fans, perhaps what was once thought as impossible -- Cubs fans rooting for the White Sox and vice versa? -- could happen in our lifetime. Given that Northsiders (Cubs fans) have despised Southsiders (White Sox fans) for decades -- and vice versa -- this likely was wishful thinking. Maybe Jesse Jackson could negotiate a truce for this World Series.

I found humor effective in my efforts to win converts. My daughter laughed at the idea the team's name stood for "White Stockings" and was incredulous when I told her the team was founded in 1893 -- just 17 years after Colorado obtained its statehood. She wanted to know if any of the players on the team in 1969 were still with the White Sox. I explained to her that no one playing Major League baseball in 1969 still was playing today. The closest I could come was former batting practice pitcher Glenn Rosenbaum. "Rosie" had become the team's Traveling Secretary and had retired a few years ago.

The Head Groundskeeper was Gene Bossard and, when I was a Bat Boy, his son, Roger helped him keep the field in order. Roger succeeded his father and probably is the only person in the entire organization I would recognized today. I explained to Holly that, when I was a Bat Boy, I was younger than all the players. Now I'm older -- much older -- than anyone playing in the pros. She was a tad disappointed. She's not quite a diehard Sox fan but she's headed in the right direction. If I can get her to a game, she may even like the real Sox more than the Red Sox! Maybe we'll invite a Cubs fan to come along. Remember, everyone loves a winner (except when it's the Yankees!).

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Bat Boy Job Dwarfs Presidency
PART 2 OF 4

It's true that almost everyone I have known believes my biggest claim to fame always has been the fact that, in 1969, I was a Bat Boy for the White Sox. According to other people (but not myself), being on television, meeting with Presidents, running an international organization, having great business acumen and success, raising a child as a single parent, and all my other accomplishments pale when compared to that one standard. Indeed, it was a kid's dream come true. I had competed with thousands of other youngsters for the coveted position and had been fortunate to win a job for the entire season. The White Sox had great players that year such as Luis Aparicio, Wilbur Wood, Bill Melton, Sandy Alomar, Gary Peters, Tommy John, Pete Ward, and Carlos May, among others but unfortunately the team stunk. We finished with a Colorado Rockies-like record of 68 wins and 94 losses (now you know why it's so easy for me to root for the Rockies -- the losses make me nostalgic).

That year, 1969, was the centennial hallmark for Major League baseball and I was lucky to be part of it (albeit an infinitesimal part). It also was the first year Major League baseball altered its format to accommodate divisional play. Suddenly, instead of just the American League and the National League, each League now was split into two divisions -- the East and the West, with the winners of each playing against each other in a best-of-five game series to see who won the pennant and would represent the League in the World Series. In 1985, a third division and a wild card spot were added. All this didn't matter as we still managed to finish near the cellar in our division.

Now, with the White Sox headed to the World Series, my claim to fame has grown -- and I make certain everyone knows about my Major League experience. After all, how many people can claim they angered Minnesota Twins outfielder big Bob Allison (he outweighed me by 75 pounds at the time) by catching a foul fly ball during a game (hey, he didn't have a chance to catch it) or played catch with the gentle giant, Frank Howard, or was the tallest member of the team for a while (I was 6'3" and was written up in the newspaper as the team's tallest member -- until a bunch of 6'4" and 6'5" players joined the Sox). Who else can claim he sat on the dugout bench and was told "Welcome to the friendly confines of Comiskey Park!" (a twist on his trademark "Welcome to the friendly confines of Wrigley Field!") by none other than Mr. Cub himself, Ernie Banks? And who else can talk about warming up every left-fielder in the American League, chasing knuckleballs, or having an umpire almost throw you out of a game? Yes, only I can entertain or, alternatively, bore you with these stories.

I also was honored -- although I didn't appreciate it at the time (what do you expect from a 15 year-old kid?) -- to begin the season with a team headed by a soon-to-be member of the Hall of Fame, the "Senor," Al Lopez. Lopez was the man responsible for managing the only teams which interrupted the New York Yankees' pennant streak when they won every American League title from 1949 to 1964. He did it with the Cleveland Indians in 1954 and with the Chicago White Sox (make that the "Sox") in 1959. I was all of six years old when Lopez and the Sox won the American League pennant and barely understood the magnitude of the accomplishment.

Unfortunately, Lopez lasted only 17 games in his final season as a manager. I always felt guilty that his decision to leave somehow was my fault. Of course, the team was 8 and 9, so things didn't look too promising anyway but the season was young and I was eternally optimistic. Don Gutteridge took over for the balance of the year. The truth was neither manager knew I existed.

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Why "Fan" Stands For Fanatic
PART 3 OF 4

So it's been 46 years since the Chicago White Sox won the American League pennant and 88 years since "we" won the World Series. Only the hapless Cubs (the "other" Chicago team, as far as White Sox fans are concerned) have waited longer for a World Series victory. Of course, none of us talk about the 1919 "Black Sox" scandal in which players on the team gave away a World Series they otherwise should have easily won. When I was a Bat Boy for the Sox in 1969 -- after being one of the winners of a Chicago newspaper contest, they didn't have a chance of making the playoffs but that didn't prevent me from hoping every day -- well, until we were mathematically eliminated in May or June!

So why do fans of teams whose title droughts last decades put up with such suffering? Why do we torment ourselves by being loyal to teams who lose day after day? And why do we do this knowing the owners and players see this as a business -- with "loyalty" rarely entering the equation when they make decisions? Are we insufferable fools (or just suffering fools)? At least I have an excuse. Having been a Bat Boy for the Sox as a teenager, people understand my loyalty to the sports family to which I once belonged.

I always have questioned the sanity of those -- including myself -- who watch professional sports in the first place. I always preferred playing a sport rather than watching it and still think I can compete in most sports -- especially baseball, basketball, football, softball, or tennis -- with most people. Of course, I also think I was a great athlete, although my high school coaches would quickly disagree with my overly-generous self-assessment. My chicken-kick serve in tennis was not exactly daunting and my consistently hanging curveball failed to intimidate even the weakest hitters I faced.

For two decades, I lived in a household where watching sports was forbidden and I admit I didn't mind that rule (today I make my own television decisions!). I agreed that watching sports wasn't a prudent way to spend one's life anyway, especially given how precious every minute we have on this planet is. Nevertheless, I confess snuck a peek on occasion.

Today, not only am I less judgmental but I appreciate how people enjoy the escape sports provides. The feats of many professional athletes often are extraordinary and amazing to watch. And there's nothing wrong with having a little downtime -- a respite from the day-to-day grind most of us endure -- which sports-watching provides For many people, sports also offers an opportunity for friendship, camaraderie, and sharing. Can you beat a tailgate picnic, a skybox party or just having friends over to watch the game? So, let's get some food and beverages and enjoy the game!

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Come Join The Fun And Be A Sox Fan
PART 4 OF 4

I admit, as sports stars' salaries escalated into the stratosphere and some of them went on strike, my interest in professional sports waned. When I was a Bat Boy for the White Sox I was paid the astronomical amounts of $6 a game and $8 for doubleheaders. As I watched owners of some teams display flagrant greed while often sabotaging their own team or, at best, making incredibly stupid trades or deals (does the name "Mike Hampton" mean anything to non-Rockies fans -- as in over $100 million down the drain?), it became even more difficult to be enthusiastic about teams. But I knew most players were good people and most owners were doing their best to assemble winning teams. And neither objective was easily obtained.

The increasingly drug- and sex-riddled world of sports dampened my enthusiasm further as professional sports went from the concept of people doing their best with what they had to finding every possible way to cheat and exploit the system, all while maintaining lifestyles which were barren of leadership, integrity, or honesty. It seemed sports was becoming less of an enjoyable escape and far too similar to the "real world."

So what was left to get excited about? The strikes, the ludicrous sums of money, the drugs, and the other bad behavior soured me on professional sports. Scandals at the college level didn't help, either. And as I learned that high schools were recruiting middle school athletes and trying to get them to switch schools, I knew problems were greater than even I had imagined.

But, for at least a few weeks, all that rational thought has been put on hold. This is what is what happens when your team wins. All is forgiven and it's now your team. Now when one speaks about the White Sox, it's always about "How we're doing" or about "How my team is..." Suddenly, I'm talking in the first person, as if I had been batting clean-up and knocking balls out of the park to help win the A.L. pennant and maybe even the World Series. Move over Paul Konerko.

That's what is so great about fan support. We think we're part of the team. Owners want us to see ourselves as part of the team for obvious reasons. Players appreciate and want fan support but they're going to do their best no matter how many of us show up at the stadium. Does fan support matter? Certainly it does but the truth is we tend to show up in droves only if our team is winning. Even the White Sox, who had the best record in baseball for most of the season, didn't draw big crowds at their home park -- U.S. Cellular Field -- in 2005. That always confused me -- why weren't more fans coming to support my team? If the Rockies played like the Sox, they would have broken every Major League attendance record for any sport.

Although I have yet to make it to that new ballpark (OK, it was opened in 1991 and replaced Comiskey Park, which had stood the test of time from 1910 to 1990, so to me U.S. Cellular Field still is new), according to reliable sources, my achievement has been immortalized in the form of my inclusion in a team picture of the 1969 White Sox. Someday I'll see that shot. But today, I'm confident the stadium will be packed with Sox fans no matter what happens. Maybe even a few Cubs fans who want to see what a winning Chicago team looks like will sneak into the park. So, in that vein of magnanimity, on behalf of sports fans everywhere, please let me invite you to root for my team, the Chicago White Sox, in the World Series -- the pinnacle of America's favorite pastime and greatest sport, baseball.

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Aaron Harber hosts "The Aaron Harber Show," seen Fridays at 9:00 pm and Sundays at 2:00 pm on PBS Station KBDI-TV Channel 12. Please go to www.HarberTV.com for more information. Send your comments and topic suggestions for both columns and TV shows to Aaron@HarberTV.com. You also may view programs on a 24/7 basis via the "Broadcast Videos" section of the Website. Many of Aaron's columns also are available on the Website on the page entitled "Aaron's Opinions." You often can find them in The Colorado Statesman (www.ColoradoStatesman.com) as well as in The Denver Daily News (www.DenverDailyNews.com).