Bacon-on-a-Stick. Ballgame. White Sox win.
Until I see Jose Abreu, the team’s best offseason acquisition was unveiled on its list of new food offerings at U.S. Cellular Field: a piece of thick-cut, premium Danish bacon seasoned with black pepper. Put it on a stiiiiiiiiiick -- yes!
So simple. So perfect. This should have been the year the Sox used the slogan, “All In.’’
Don’t get confused here: We’re not talking about Ozzie Guillen’s Spanglish pronunciation of Gordon Beckham’s name. This is Bacon-on-a-Stick, not Beckham-without-a-stick.
Here’s a handy way to remember it: Bacon is good, Beckham is not.
So, yes, the ideal double-play combination would be ordering bacon at breakfast while ordering Beckham out of town.
By the way, the Sox will offer a second food product meant to take your mind off Beckham’s wasted career: the Bacon Mac and Cheeseburger. It’s just like it sounds -- a burger topped with bacon macaroni and cheese.
If you ask me, all the other stuff just gets in the way of bacon like it oughta be, but I think we’ll look back on this as an important moment in my vision of world bacon domination.
After the headline-grabbing incursion made by pork bellies a couple years ago in expected spots such as restaurants, we’re now seeing the awakening of bacon sleeper cells at the Cell.
And you watch, bacon food trucks will morph into an army that can travel light enough to annex large areas. Imagine playing Risk with rashers.
It’s coming, people. Bacon is the new black.
No, wait, I just blasphemed, comparing God’s food with an earthly concept.
Forgive me, bacon, for I have sinned.
The Sox will offer Bacon-on-a-Stick on the 100 and 500 levels, so God’s food also is the people’s food.
And it is the people’s food, people. Bacon is multidenominational. I’m not going to debate laws, creeds and beliefs. I don’t have to. I think it’s obvious that God made bacon smell so good and taste so unimaginably spectacular because he was so proud of it and he wants you to have some.
Now. Yes, God wants you to have bacon now. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
At this point, it seems appropriate to let you know I had a BLT for breakfast on the morning of my bar-mitzvah. Sorry, rabbi.
Ever tried bacon and shrimp pizzas? That covers multiple unkosher areas, but like I say: Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.
I do not recall breaking the Yom Kippur fast by adding bacon to the traditionally tasteless dairy meal, but then it has been so long since I fasted that I could be wrong.
Point is, I’m old-school bacon, if not also religiously lapsed.
I once made bacon turtles -- weaving rashers around ground sausage with sausage links serving as the head and legs. Difficult and messy, but worth it.
I also weaved strips of bacon into a pie-crust shape, then baked it and plopped mac and cheese in the middle. Kiss my rasher, Oreo crust.
I think you’ll agree that bacon deserves its own arts and crafts class in school. Ask kids whether they’d rather cook a bacon creation or glue those stupid pasta pieces to construction paper and call it a Mother’s Day present.
Nothing says, “I love you, Mom,’’ better than frying up enough bacon to spell out, “I love you, Mom.’’
Or you can just shove a whole, greasy slab of it into the oven. At the suggestion of WSCR-AM 670 host Dan Bernstein, I baked a pound of bacon and then poured barbecue sauce over it.
Mmm ... bacon.
I don’t want to be healthy when I die, and bacon is helping me accomplish that goal.
And now, so are the Sox.
Opening day is Monday. Play bacon.