In April of 1815, Mount Tambora in Indonesia began erupting over the course of four months. Tens of thousands of people in the vicinity of the volcano died, but the effects would be eventually be felt worldwide. A haze blanketed the northern hemisphere over the following year, resulting in a global temperature drop with extreme effects. In the United States, crops took a hit due to a prolonged cold snap during the warmest months, including reports of snow in the eastern part of the country in June and July. Harsher conditions in Europe, already in a delicate state while recovering from the Napoleonic Wars, led to widespread famine and disease.
Yet some consequences of the gloom managed to avoid tragedy. In Switzerland, weeks of frigid nights spoiled Mary Shelley's original vacation plans, and she spent the time stuck indoors expanding upon a short story to wait out the gloom. In the US, the awful summer pushed many farmers to consider moving westward in search of more favorable growing conditions, since nobody knew the reasons for the abrupt change in climate.
It took about two years after the Year Without a Summer for those ramifications to materialize. In 1818, Frankenstein was published, and Illinois had enough people to gain statehood.
It'll probably take a similar amount of time to understand whether there was any purpose in enduring the 2024 White Sox. Right now, their only accomplishment was the destruction of baseline expectations. Just like residents of New England could no longer assume that temperatures would stay above freezing by summer solstice, White Sox fans can no longer figure that every team will field at least one average hitter, or spring one ninth-inning comeback, or even win 50 games. Hell, these Sox needed a furious finish to reach 40.
The White Sox finished dead last in their league in runs scored and runs allowed, which is something the two next-losingest teams in the modern era couldn't claim, because both the 1962 Mets and 2003 Tigers were merely next-to-last in offense. The best you can say about the 2024 Sox is that, while their pitching was the league's worst, it was in the spirit that the nature of rankings requires one team to bring up the rear. They might've been scored upon more than any other staff, but Garrett Crochet looked like an All-Star at the beginning and the end of the season, you can pencil in a rotation for next year, and despite a bullpen that still looks largely unsettled, they posted a better-than-average performance preventing runs in September.
There are no such bright spots with the lineup, whose 507 runs scored were the fewest by any team in a standard season since the 1971 Padres, who mustered just 486. Unlike the pitching side, nobody benefited from the open playing time unless you count Lenyn Sosa's BABIPpy September. Otherwise, only two spots are settled for next year -- one if Luis Robert Jr. is traded -- and it'll take a surprise for any other immediate help to appear.
Any hope rests on what hasn't been done. Perhaps Jerry Reinsdorf's year-end statement and the promises therein reflect that he's absorbed the colossal embarrassment necessary to nudge him into modernizing his approach for running a baseball team this century. Perhaps he's going to make token gestures until the team returns to an ordinary kind of uninspiring and the national scrutiny dissipates, after which he'll withdraw his support for the things he can't see and resume concentrating on building a new ballpark with public money.
There have been worse times to be a White Sox fan, but that's only because their 123-year history includes throwing a World Series, actively auditioning for relocation and fomenting a labor war that cancelled the team's best shot at an actual golden age. However, that just makes it all the more astounding that this season was far less successful than any other season that came before. Financially, geographically, socioeconomically, the White Sox are stable. They're just clueless, watching them for entertainment value was pointless, and whether the White Sox improve in a meaningful way from here, just remember that no external factors made it this dark. They did it to themselves.
While the White Sox were less successful than ever, covering them was more rewarding than ever. The addition of James as a credentialed beat writer brought an unprecedented dimension to Sox Machine's coverage, as well as somebody who could share the burden in figuring out different ways to cover a story that stayed largely the same over six grueling months.
I'd like to thank James for taking a leap in joining Sox Machine, and Josh for his help in making the arrangement possible. You might know Josh for his crackerjack work producing the Sox Machine Podcast and covering the draft. You might not know that if you give him an exciting possibility, he'll have a PowerPoint presentation ready by the time you ask him, "So, what do you think?" His enthusiasm continues to be a needed counterbalance for my deliberative tendencies.
Along with James and Josh, I'd like to thank Ted for his Saturday Sporcles -- at least until I curse him for all the 2024 White Sox players I'll forget in next week's quiz -- and Patrick and Greg for their fine work pinch-hitting. Also, three cheers to Billy for his endless supply of increasingly despondent bag men.
Outside of Sox Machine, I'd like to express our appreciation to 670 The Score, particularly everybody with Bernstein & Holmes, for inviting us to talk about the White Sox multiple times a week, at least until Bears season drew close enough to change the subject. Here's a tip of the hat to From the 108 for successful trips to Milwaukee and Kansas City, as well as the inaugural Opening Day Eve Party at the Ramova.
None of this would be possible without the support of Sox Machine subscribers. We cannot thank you enough for your interest and generosity, especially under these conditions, and we hope to continue making it worth your while. In fact, we actually hope to serve you better, as we're in the early stages of charting a move to a new platform that will ease up on the paywall headaches. Any transition will account for making sure existing supporters' subscriberships are carried over one way or another, so if you've been on the fence about signing up for Sox Machine, don't let that stop you.
If this was your first year reading or listening to Sox Machine, please be aware that while the season is over, our daily coverage will continue. We'll shift into offseason mode by sifting through the wreckage, recapping the minor league affiliates and laying track for the Offseason Plan Project, and since James didn't join us until February, I'm looking forward to seeing what he brings to the winter. I'm also looking forward to what you have to say just as much. This work would be a lot less rewarding without the conversation it generates, so I hope you'll continue stopping by.
