Hawk Harrelson, the broadcaster for the Chicago White Sox, will be with the White Sox for at least four more years. From the White Sox' official Twitter feed:
Hawk Harrelson Receives Four-Year Contract Extension From White Sox


Congrats to Hawk Harrelson on a four-year extension to remain in the #WhiteSox television booth.
It looks like the White Sox have made a commitment to an announcer who is as much a part of the organization as Comiskey Park, and the inseparable pairing will continue through the middle of the decade, at least.
...
Psst. All the White Sox fans gone? Okay, cool.
Oh, no. No, no, no. Not more Hawk. Please, no. No, no, no. Please, no. I looked forward to a future where I could chose between the feed of a Yankees/White Sox game without giving up and listening to that awful Santana/Rob Thomas song on repeat for three hours because it’s preferable to Hawk or John Sterling.
When I went to do research on this post, I started typing “Hawk Harrelson Wikipedia” into Google, and this is what dropped down:
Not sure what the “Hawk Harrelson wimpy” thing is about, but I’m guessing it’s because he’s more annoying than a guy who is constantly haranguing you to borrow money for hamburgers. Oh, man. There’s nothing worse than reading something on Twitter like ...
Wow! Dayan Viciedo hit that one a mile! I don't think I've ever seen a ball do that in Target Field!
... and then going to MLB.com to see the highlight and hearing “STRETCH STRETCH STRETCH YOU CAN PUT IT ON THE BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOARD YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! OH, YES! YES! A MILLION TIMES YES!” with the cadence and tone of Meg Ryan in a diner.
You got us, White Sox. You’re the hipsters of the baseball world. You’re doing this out of irony, I get it. You’re putting on “Metal Machine Music” at a party, trying to be different, and we’re just supposed to take it in stride. There’s nothing we can do. It’s still baseball, and we’ll just have to eat what you serve.
Just as long as we can make fun of Hawk, which I seem to do far more often than actually watching White Sox games, we’ll all come out ahead.











