After a dismal 101-loss season and the defection to Detroit of beloved announcer Jason Benetti, the White Sox could use a little positivity these days. And they may have found it in their unabashedly enthused new TV play-by-play man, John Schriffen. It’s the first gig as a full-time MLB announcer for this 39-year-old, who climbed the ranks by calling everything from G League basketball and (from his home) Korean baseball during the pandemic to big-time college football.

How did you reach this point, doing play-by-play in one of baseball’s top markets?

The biggest thing it takes is belief. Because there’s only 30 jobs in Major League Baseball, and there’s so many people telling you it’s not possible. So you need confidence in yourself — and good people in your corner. When I was at Dartmouth, my middle sister was at Howard, and she told me to come there for a transfer semester. I studied journalism in their school of communication, then got an internship at [Pardon the Interruption] at ESPN. It just snowballed from there.

Who told you that you shouldn’t aim to be a major-league play-by-play announcer?

When I was a sideline reporter at CBS Sports, I had an agent say to me, “Don’t even try because there’s a million [people who want those jobs] and you’re not going to stand out.” I quickly got rid of him.

What role has baseball played in your life?

Baseball is emotional for me. I’m biracial — my dad is white, my mom is Black — and growing up in New York City in the ’80s and the ’90s, I saw how both were treated very differently. And I saw how people looked at me differently. The comforting thing for me was playing baseball. Because when I was on the field, nobody cared what color you were. It was, Could you play? Were you a good teammate? And as a pitcher, nothing happened until I threw the ball, so it was the only time in my life I actually had control of things.

The number of Black MLB players has dropped significantly over the last few decades. Why is that?

Baseball is about access. It’s not a game where you can just go in your backyard anymore. And people don’t really play stickball in the street, where most people in the city learned to play. One of the reasons I wanted to take this job was learning about the White Sox ACE [Amateur City Elite] program and teaching inner-city kids — showing them you can use baseball as a path. Not necessarily becoming a professional athlete. But you can get to college with playing baseball and then figure your next chapter. That’s what it was for me.

You went to Dartmouth to play baseball. What happened there?

Literally my first bullpen [session], my second pitch, I felt something in my arm. The coach is behind me, and I’m like, I gotta show him something. So I tried to throw again. And I couldn’t. Eventually we found out it was a torn ligament in my elbow and I needed Tommy John surgery. I was going to lose basically two years to try to chase this dream. It was like, What am I doing? At that point, my identity was a baseball player. That’s all I knew. So when I stopped, my identity was crushed. I was 18 years old, and I started drinking a lot. I had never even had a sip of alcohol in my life. I was just in this really dark space, and I didn’t know how to get out of it.

How did you?

I had a friend who was at the [college] radio station, and he said, “You know the baseball team. Come in the booth for an inning.” And I put on the headset, and it just clicked. I knew this was the closest I was ever going to get to the field again. And when you’re describing the game, it’s almost like you’re playing, because you can go into this mode of nothing else in the world matters. You can get lost in the game. For me, I knew I was never going to get that feeling in anything else.

One of my favorite parts of watching baseball is when the announcers tell stories during lulls.

That’s baseball. [Milwaukee Brewers announcer] Brian Anderson describes it as there are two tracks you talk on when broadcasting a sporting event. Track 1 is your biggest voice. You’re excited. You’re describing a play on the field. You’re getting people hyped. Track 2 is just talking conversationally about whatever — a story line in the game, something I encountered walking the streets of Chicago. And in baseball, track 1 is about 20 percent of the time. Track 2 is basically where you live. If you call a basketball game, it’s the reverse.

What’s the most memorable game you’ve called?

I called the last Alabama football home game for Nick Saban. What’s cool about it is that at the time we didn’t know he was going to retire.

Last season, an announcer for the Orioles was suspended for talking honestly about how the team was doing. Where’s the line for you?

I’ve always understood from day one that my job is not to be the analyst. My job is to say what’s happening. Steve Stone is there to say why. I never want to be the story. That’s just who I am. I want people to come to conclusions on their own.

Last season was obviously a disappointment for the Sox. How do you get fans excited?

Nobody can ever promise how many wins or losses. But I can honestly say it’s going to be a fun season. This team is going to be different. They’re going to bunt, they’re going to move runners over, they’re going to take an extra base.

What role has ambition played in your career?

If your dreams don’t scare you, you’re not dreaming big enough. My dream was to be a big-league baseball player, and I didn’t get there. But look at me now, a big-league broadcaster. My ambition was always to get to the Show. I literally walked on the field today and saw my face on the big screen. I never thought that would be possible.