Dedicated to....

Dedicated to ... my grandma. She may not have been the biggest Sox fan, or baseball fan, but when I was 3 years old, she would wear my dad’s Sox hat and pitch to me in the backyard when she was in her fifties (and the unknowing kid I was I made her pick up her leg and wind up like Nolan Ryan). When I was young and had no money, she got us tickets, and she may not have known what was going on or (as she always loved to joke) who was on first, but she knew I did, and I got to see the likes of Harold Baines, Ozzie Guillen, and The Big Hurt, and Rockin Robin as youngsters. We laid her to rest on Valentine’s Day 2004. I know wherever she is, she doesn’t know who Tadahito Iguchi is or Jose Contreras or Bobby Jenks, but I know it was just as it was when I was a kid; she was happy seeing me this happy.

—Domeshot17

Dedicated to ... my grandpa (we called him “papaw”), a man from the greatest generation of Americans.

He raised my father a Sox fan, and I was the third generation. I have that old man to thank ... the original. A guy who moved to Chicago as a teenager and became a Sox fan sometime in the mid 1930s. He died in 1990, never getting to see the moment that we just saw.

This one’s for you, Grandpa.

Here’s to all of the true believers out there. Generations of people have waited so patiently for this moment, and it is upon us. Congratulations to all Sox fans. This is our moment in the sun. GO SOX!

—Jurr