I've seen a million faces... AND I ROCKED THEM ALL!!!

Along the same lines as my last posting, another fun story from my winter break that finally needs to be told...

Saturday night, January 17th. I was back in Chicago for my last hurrah before school started back up. JM and I hit the Bulls game earlier in the night, then met up with JK after the game and played some darts.

Many drinks and victorious dart games later, I told JM we needed to hit Louie's. Louie's is a special place for me. A karaoke bar nestled in the Wicker Park neighborhood, not a far walk from JM's place. I had overcome my nerves (alcohol usually helps) to sing to a packed Louie's twice before, singing Journey's Don't Stop Believin'. I had done quite well. I had my fellow patrons singing with me, and some cheering whenever I threw in the occasional White Sox reference. But this night was going to be different. I had made up my mind that Journey was not to be sung.

But I kept JM and JK in the dark. I didn't tell them what I was going to sing. We arrived at the bar, I put my name and song in, and paitiently waited my turn. Little did anyone know that I had been practicing this particular song on Rock Band and Guitar Hero in the days leading up. I was ready. I wasn't even nervous. I was anxious and excitied more than anything.

There were maybe 4 or 5 people ahead of me. They all sang songs that were either boring or unknown by the majority of the crowd. I could feel the energy of the bar waning. I was being set up for the kill. Perfect timing.

They called my name. And like MJ in Game 6 of the '98 Finals, I swiped the ball from Karl Malone and made my slow trot to center stage. My moment was here. I may have been doubted by some... but just like MJ, I knew I was going to blow the roof off the place. I was supremely confident and ready for my moment.

The opening bars of Bon Jovi's Livin' On A Prayer started. And the crowd instantly awoke. I already had them on my side.

To say I rocked the place would be an understatement. I held that microphone like I was born to do this. I didn't just sing, I played to the crowd. I let them sing portions of the chorus by holding the mic out to random people. I walked through the bar to make sure everyone was into it. And they were. I didn't once look at the TV screen for words. I knew them like the back of my hand, like that familiar taste of kissing a long lost love.

The crowd was mine. They sang and danced along. Before the song was half over, I had random girls grabbing me in different directions to sing along with me. I simply didn't have the time to walk up to all of them, so they took matters into their own hands...

The song ended. The crowd was euphoric. They cheered for me like I've never been cheered for before. And all along, I had my two best buddies, brothers to me, along for the ride.

I know I'm boasting. In reality, rock star lead singer is not in my future. I don't have the pipes or stage presence for it. And to be honest, I probably sang off key, and the only reason I rocked the crowd was because I played a familiar song and they were just as drunk as I was.

But for a brief time, I was Mick Jagger, David Lee Roth, and Robert Plant all rolled into one. For 4 minutes and 9 seconds, Louie's changed their name to Erik's.

My religious experience with Jim Thome

I know I've been slacking big time with the blog lately. One posting in almost two whole months? I have excuses. School was kicking my ass in December. I recently joined facebook. I moved into a new house. I got wrapped up in the resurrection of my beloved Blackhawks. I put my ps3 online (big mistake). School started back up. The White Sox aren't playing right now. And I kind of got wrapped up chasing girls I have no business chasing.

But my two readers would have none of this.

I have a few topics to blog about, but for now, I'll treat you to my morning spent with Jim Thome.

January 13, another slow and boring morning at Dick's Sporting Goods. I was in the backstock trying to look busy. A girl that worked at the front noticed a familiar face walk in, and knowing how I kind of like the Sox, immediately called me.

Tonia: "Erik! Where are you??? You will not believe who is shopping for shoes right now!"
Me: "I'm in the backstock... Who's out there?"
Tonia: "Jim Thome!"
Me: "Yeah right."
Tonia: "Look for yourself!"

So I walk out on the floor. And standing 5 feet from me is Jim Freaking Thome.

Me: "Holy shit!!! Jim Thome!!!"
Jim: "Hey there! What's up, buddy?"

And then HE holds out his hand to shake mine. I was stunned.

Jim: "What's your name?"
Me: "Er...Erik."
Jim: "Good to meet you, Erik!"
Me: "Mr. Thome... I'm a huge White Sox fan... Huge fan of you too..."
Jim: "Awesome!"

He then proceeded to ask me a few questions about a particular brand of shoes, stating how he was negotiating an endorsement deal with said shoe company. He wanted to try them out prior to signing the deal. So he bought five pairs for himself and his family. He was talking about the shoes, the potential deal, what he was up to in Peoria... and my mind wasn't registering that I was talking to Jim Thome. It was blank. I just stood there and listened. There were so many things I wanted to ask him. But within a few minutes he was getting ready to leave. My hands were sweating, I was shaking, my voice was cracking. So I had to stop and ask just one more question.

I thought about my greatest memory of last season, in the divisional playoff game against the Twins. With the score 0-0, both pitchers absolutely locked in, and the tension beyond words. Then, in the 7th inning he launched a moon shot that still hasn't landed. A moment that launched me out of my seat.

I asked him about that moment, and what it felt like. He told me that it was beyond description. How his heart was pounding so hard and he barely felt his feet running around the bases. How cool the blacked-out crowd looked. And how he'll never forget it because it launched the Sox into the playoffs.

Not wanting to take up anymore of his time, I nervously asked for an autograph, wished him luck in the upcoming season, and HE shook my hand once more and thanked me.

And just like that he was gone.

I couldn't get myself back to work. I was absolutely stunned about what had just transpired. I had just had a one-on-one conversation with one of my favorite baseball players, who also just happens to play for my favorite team. I had heard stories about how he's the nicest guy in baseball, how he's never let stardom or money get to his head, how he's so approachable and down to earth. And I experienced it first hand. He was happy to meet a fan, he took the time to talk to me, and happily obliged for an autograph. I've met other Sox players before, but not like this. This was beyond words. To meet him at my job, where he acted just like every other customer I've ever helped.

I've always liked Jim Thome. Not so much when he was an Indian and he routinely killed the Sox. But when he went to the Phillies, I began to appreciate him. And when the Sox got him, I was ecstatic. But now... he's quite possibly one of my favorite players EVER.