When the White Sox break the modern-era record for most losses in a season, many White Sox fans will consider it rock bottom. And who would argue? Losing game No. 121, whenever that comes in the next two weeks, will be the numerical definition of the word “worst.’’
But I’d argue that when the Sox do surpass the 1962 Mets’ record, it won’t technically be rock bottom. That’s because the entire season has been an interstate of rock bottom. You know those TV cartoons that use a repeating background to save the artists from carpal tunnel syndrome? It’s like that. One long, endless rock bottom.
If it wasn’t injuries to the usual parties — Eloy Jimenez, Yoan Moncada and Luis Robert Jr. — it was manager Pedro Grifol getting fired two days after his team had snapped an American League-tying 21-game losing streak. If it wasn’t chairman Jerry Reinsdorf having the nerve to push for a new ballpark during this horrible season, it was the Sox becoming the first team since 1900 to have three losing streaks of at least 12 games in the same year.
It was the boneheaded plays on the field. The goofy TV play-by-play guy. The fans with paper bags over their heads. In May.
2024 White Sox vs. the 1962 Mets … pic.twitter.com/XCkSWL3PF9
— Mark Potash (@MarkPotash) September 11, 2024
The most recent stretch of rock bottom came via general manager Chris Getz. It’s been several days, and I’m still confounded by his statement about the enormous amount of losing the team has done this season.
“I think if you would have told me (before the season) we were going to end up flirting with the record, I would have been a little surprised,” Getz told reporters. “Now if you would have told me prior to the year that we would have ended up with over 100 losses, 105, 110, I wouldn’t have been as surprised. But this is the cards that we’ve been dealt at this point.’’
If you knew your team was bad enough to lose 110 games, surely you understood that 121 losses wasn’t out of the question. I know there are levels of bad, but if a team is godawful enough to lose 110 games, it’s godawful enough to set the record. The only difference between a 110-loss team and a 120-loss team are some bad bounces and the nagging feeling that somebody up there hates you.
The galling part of Getz’s quote: “But this is the cards that we’ve been dealt at this point.’’
If Getz isn’t the card dealer, then Reinsdorf is. To pretend that what has happened is some strange, beyond-anyone’s-control occurrence is insulting to the fan base. Getz made the trades to put the Sox on this path. Reinsdorf endorsed the plan to lose big the past two seasons as a way of winning later. This isn’t a tank job. This is a septic-tank job, one with no end in sight.
In February, a PECOTA projection gave the Sox a 0.0% chance of making the playoffs in 2024. That number was a topic in the clubhouse during spring training.
“I don’t think I even have to go there anymore with these guys,” Grifol said at the time. “It’s actually permeated through that clubhouse pretty good to where I don’t have to touch it. I know it motivates the s— out of me. Zero point zero? That means, why play?”
Why play? A question that hasn’t lost relevance in six months. Amazing.
After last season ended, Getz publicly stated he didn’t like the Sox’ roster. Who would? That team lost 101 games. Before spring training this year, he said the moves he had made since pointed to good things ahead.
“I feel like we’ve got a solid foundation,” he said. “We’re better positioned for success and look forward to getting things rolling here shortly.”
Now, none of us is naive here, including Getz. We know that team leaders in all sports have to say things in the name of optimism and ticket sales, especially before the start of a season. But then there was this:
“These guys are very capable players,’’ he said. “If they play to their potential, they can beat anyone on any given night.”
With this roster, for the Sox to beat anyone on any given night, the season would need to last about 10 years. And Getz knew that.
So here comes the record for losses in a season. No one, not even the truest-blue Sox fan, has the energy or the gullibility to suggest that that day isn’t coming. There’s no face-saving rescuer waiting to save the franchise from the ultimate historical embarrassment.
Rock bottom beckons. It’s been here all along.