The Perfect Game

By Jean Mavrelis - 07.25.2009

I was sitting in the dialysis center waiting for my 89 year old mother to finish her treatment. The TV in the corner broadcast the end of Mark Buerhle\’s perfect game. My mind wandered to thoughts of the White Sox when I was a kid. It all started for me with \”Dunc\” Rigney.

John \”Dunc\” Rigney, White Sox pitcher in the 40\’s, married Dorothy Comiskey, whose father, Charlie Comiskey, owned the White Sox. Dunc used to come into my Dad\’s tavern for a Goldyburger and a Schlitz; and he\’d stop at my uncle\’s gas station next door to get gas long before self serve.Uncle Harry used to say to other folks who came into the station, \”Shake the hand that shook the hand of John Duncan Rigney. When Mr Rigney wasn\’t using his box seats along the third base line he sometimes gave them to my Dad. It was late summer, 1959, the year the Sox won the pennant, and my Dad took me to a game to sit in the box seats. I remember a big hitter named Ted Kluszewski whose arms were so big he had to cut off his shirt sleeves, and little Luis Aparicio, the shortstop who could always steal a base. Man, that was exciting. At that moment of nostalgia –that was 50 years ago – Mom would have been 39!–I returned to the dialysis center waiting room where they were wheeling my mom into the reception area. Read more »