Diary of a White Sox Fan (Long)

A few days I heard someone say something to the effect of: "It's easy to be a White Sox fan, but Cubs fans deserve more credit for sticking with their team because they lose so much". As most of you know, I am a lifelong White Sox fan. Hearing this generalization got me thinking, just how "easy" is it to be a White Sox fan? And how tough is it to be a Cubs fan?

Well, I can't really tell you a whole lot about how difficult being a Cubs fan is, because I've never truly been one. But I do believe that it is no easier to be a Sox fan than a Cubs fan. The point of this blog is to speak from my perspective as a White Sox fan and at least try to explain our point of view.

I'll try not to talk about the Cubs too much, because the point is not to trash them. However, being in the same city as them inevitably leads to many comparisons between the Cubs vs. Sox. So forgive me if this ends up sounding like a Cub-hating entry at times. That's really not my intention.

To give a little background for those who might not be from Chicago, here's how it generally works around here as far as team loyalty goes: When you grow up in the Chicagoland area, you usually decide whether you're a Sox or Cubs fan early on, and stick with them for the rest of your life. You don't always have to have a logical reason to pick one or the other; reasons can range from "liking the Sox uniforms" to "because my dad is a Cubs fan". The North Side/South Side thing was obviously a big factor for those who actually lived in the city. And for a lot of people my age that grew up in the suburbs, I think they became Cubs fans because they were always on WGN. But really, it doesn't matter what your reason is - as long as you pick one and stick with your team.

For me, I started liking the Sox because I always got free tickets to their games from school and my dad would actually take me to watch them. Don't know if they still do this, but they had some promotion back then where kids that got straight A's or had perfect attendance got free tickets, and I usually qualified both ways (yes, I was as awesome back then as I am now).

One thing I remember is that no matter where I was as a kid, it seemed like I was always outnumbered by Cubs fans. I got use to being asked the question "why are you a Sox fan?" with looks of disdain. And today, it's much the same.

The fact is, this is much more of a "Cubs town" than it is a "Sox town". Though the White Sox have probably had more success in the past 20 years as far as winning goes, the Cubs have by far had more success as far as fan appeal and profitability goes. I've always thought that was very ironic, that even when stacked up against the Chicago Cubs, a franchise that has literally become synonymous with losing, the White Sox are still inferior in this city. We're losing to the losers - if that's not insulting, then I don't know what is.

To me, that is a good starting point of understanding what it's like to be a White Sox fan. If the difficulty of being a Cubs fan means growing accustomed to losing, then the difficulty of being a White Sox fan means growing accustomed to insulting situations, regardless of wins or losses.

I could start in many areas but I'll start with our stadium. First of all, it was named after an owner that was known for being one of the stingiest jerks in the history of baseball. So stingy that his players resorted to taking bribes to dump a World Series in 1919 (more on that later).

But despite the negative history behind the name, at least "Comiskey Park" sounded like it had some history and tradition. And before it was replaced by New Comiskey in 1990, I think it was the oldest standing ballpark in the country (older than Fenway and Wrigley), which was kind of cool.

When you think of a team getting a new stadium, generally people are really excited about it. But when they replaced Old Comiskey with New Comiskey, I remember very little enthusiasm and hoopla regarding the change. Why?

The thing about New Comiskey was that it was a decent ballpark with good facilities, but had nothing special or spectacular about it. Overall it just felt like a pretty sterile place. Built sort of like Yankee Stadium, only without all the rich tradition.

This was made more insulting by the fact that only 1 year later, a new wave of really nice ballparks started being built around the country, by the same designers of New Comiskey if I'm not mistaken. Places like Camden Yards in Baltimore or Jacobs Field in Cleveland really put our stadium to shame with their fan friendly designs. Looking back, it was clear that we built New Comiskey one year too early; that, or our owner simply decided to be too cheap in the wrong situation.

In the past few years, they have made some nice improvements to the park, which is a good thing. But, the catch is that they sold out the naming rights in the process. Having a stadium named after a stingy owner is one thing, but US Cellular is just plain tacky. Not to mention the inevitable nickname "the Cell", who wants to take their kids to watch baseball at a place called "the Cell"?

If it sounds like I'm making too big a deal about our stadium troubles, just think about how much Wrigley Field means to Cub fans. The ivy (which by the way was planted by Bill Veeck before he became owner of the White Sox), the hand operated scoreboard, the bars in the surrounding neighborhood. How different might their image be if the Cubs did not have all of those things associated with their stadium?

But enough about that, let's talk about the players. Because you can have all the marketing you want, and play in the nicest ballpark ever, but in the end it if you don't have players worth rooting for, it's really tough to be a fan.

One thing that always bothered me was when Harold Baines retired, and the Sox honored him by retiring his number. But after that, he went on to unretire and play for the Baltimore Orioles. Eventually he came back to play for the Sox again, but that was still pretty insulting if you're a Sox fan. You put a guy's number on your wall, and he comes back to play against you for an opposing team? Chris Rock talking about the OJ murder comes to mind: "I buy you a car -- you gonna let another man drive around in my car? Are you out of your f---ing mind?!" Come on, Harold, at least go to the National League or something!

A recurring theme I have noticed is that the White Sox seem to have had their share of great players, only we have them at the wrong time of their career. Sammy Sosa was a prime example - for years, he was a pretty good player for us. Then we traded him to the Cubs, and he turned into a monster home run hitter and one of the most recognizable faces in the game.

He's not the only one though. Carlton Fisk, Hall of Fame catcher, legendary for his playoff home run at Fenway, is forever associated with the Red Sox (another insult to note here, we're not even the most popular team in the AL named "Sox"). Fisk played with the White Sox for at least a few seasons at the end of his career, but those years were mostly an afterthought when his career is discussed. Bo Jackson, one of the greatest athletes of all time, was idolized by White Sox fans for the short time he was here (I'll always remember his hit to clinch the division that one year), but rarely would anyone other than a Sox fan ever picture him in a Sox uniform.

When I do try to think of a star player that has actually been with the Sox during his best years, one whose name people associate with the White Sox organization, the guy that comes to mind is Frank Thomas. He's one of the few players who has been with the Sox his whole career, while being one of the best players in the game during his prime.

Right now, most people see a Frank Thomas that is injury prone, limited to DH duties, and only sometimes productive. But throughout the early 90's, when I was still a young Sox fan, Frank Thomas was a blossoming young player who almost immediately became one of the most feared hitters throughout the major leagues. Not just a home run hitter, but a guy who hit for average and drew walks too. The way he consistently put up superstar numbers year after year was legitimately comparable to Hall of Famers like Babe Ruth and Micky Mantle, believe it or not. Most impressively, his Leaf rookie card was worth $70, the most I knew of any single card being worth at that time when I was collecting baseball cards.

However, Frank's personality was a different story. Though he wasn't a flat out jerk like Barry Bonds or Albert Belle, he never had the exciting superstar qualities to go with his numbers. He didn't have the engaging smile of Ken Griffey Jr., nor did he have the theatrics to go with his home runs people associate with Sammy Sosa.

And whether justified or not, there were always little knocks on Frank that prevented him from being truly loved like the other stars. People would point to his poor defensive skills, criticize him for not being a leader, write articles about how all he cared about were stats and not the team. We often heard about how he was surly with reporters at times, and feuds he had with managers or teammates. These were all things that were not unique to Frank Thomas, yet they seemed to haunt him and hold him back more than anybody else.

To me, Frank Thomas's career has been an enigma, because we have seen other stars put up lesser numbers than he has, whose defense is just as bad and are probably bigger a-holes than he is, but still seem to be more accepted by fans than Frank ever was.

It's puzzling to me that he never became a superstar, not even to fans of the White Sox. But at the same time, his story seems like such an appropriate one to outline in this blog, because it almost sums up to the finest detail what it's like to be a White Sox fan as a whole. Much like how Frank has put up successful numbers throughout his career and has never been all that appreciated as a player, the White Sox have been a fairly competitive franchise for years now and still are a team that is largely ignored in their own city. In each case, there are numerous reasons that people bring up when they try to explain why that is, but none ever truly manage to tell the whole story.

Another thing to consider about what it's like to be a Sox fan is, how is our organization viewed around the country by non-Chicago fans? I mean, if you think about the Yankees, you think about Babe Ruth and Murderer's Row. Cincinnati Reds, it's the Big Red Machine or the Nasty Boys. Oakland had the Bash Brothers. Dodgers had Jackie Robinson, Tommy Lasorda, Vin Scully. The Red Sox obviously had their curse, to go along with Fenway Park and a long list of Hall of Famers. Cubs, they have their own curse, Wrigley Field, and Harry Caray (another example of someone who was with the White Sox for years but is rarely known for that association).

Well, for starters, there's usually not much people know about the White Sox to begin with. Most non-Sox fans don't care about our history, and if they do, many will think of the 1919 Black Sox scandal. Or, in more recent years, for the dumb drunk fans that run on the field to attack the umpires or opposing teams' coaches. Neither is particularly a favorable thing, to say the least. Basically, in the eyes of most of the baseball watching nation, we are either complete unknowns, or known exclusively for things that put us in a negative light.

Think about this for a second: when the Cubs have a losing season, no big deal. If they haven't won a World Series in 100 years, everyone still loves them. After all, they're the "Lovable Losers" aren't they? But if and when the Sox lose, there's nothing "lovable" about the White Sox or our fans. So what if we haven't won a World Series in almost as many years as the Cubs? The last time we were in one, the players sold the championship for money!

While we're on the topic of not winning championships, I am reminded of possibly the most painful experience I have had as a White Sox fan. Unlike the Bartman incident or Bill Buckner's error, this experience did not involve something that happened on the field, but something off the field.

Fellow Sox fans probably already know what I am talking about, but for those of you who don't, I am referring to the 1994 players union strike. At that time, the Sox were coming off a 1993 season in which they won their division but ran into a hot team in the playoffs and lost to the Blue Jays. They returned most of the key pieces for 1994, such as Frank Thomas in his prime, a pitching staff headed by Jack McDowell, Alex Fernandez, Wilson Alvarez, and Jason Bere when they were all awesome. Roberto Hernandez was lights out as our closer. We even had Dan Pasqua coming off the bench, so you know it was supposed to be our year.

Anyways, about 100 games into the season we're cruising along, leading the division again as everyone expected. Things are looking good for another playoff run, and fans are getting excited at the real possibility of us making it to the WS and maybe even winning it all.

Then boom, the players decide to go on strike. Season ends, no playoffs, no nothing. As a fan it felt like the rug had been pulled from under us. By the time an agreement is reached and play finally resumes the next year, the baseball landscape has changed. The White Sox in 1995 were still a respectable team, but by no means were they the same dominant force in the American League that they were before the strike.

Meanwhile, fans were left wondering "what might have been?" if the 94 season had played out. A funny thing is that while the Sox were hurt badly by the strike, most believe that the Montreal Expos were hurt the most that year. And it's hard for me to disagree with that statement, I mean, the Expos had a team featuring guys like Moises Alou, Larry Walker, and Pedro Martinez. But here's yet another example of how the White Sox never win - not even when we're comparing futility!

In any case, I would say that the strike clearly set the White Sox franchise back significantly more than most teams. Sort of like what the Deon Thomas/Bruce Pearl fiasco did to the Illinois basketball program in the early 90's, but not exactly in the same manner. The fans were angry that the best White Sox team they had seen in a long time never got a chance to play for a World Series. Some were especially mad at the Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf in particular, because they believed he was the owner most instrumental in causing the strike to happen in the first place. Not sure how accurate that assessment actually is, but if it's true, boy what another insult for Sox fans to take!

Even 10 years after the fact, the strike is still sometimes blamed for sluggish attendance figures at the ballpark today. I think by now most of us have moved on from the hurt feelings, but definitely no Sox fan from that time will ever completely forget that experience.

Looks like this entry is the longest I've written in a long time. What can I say? There are a few things I am passionate about in life and one of them is the White Sox. But I better wrap this up now, if everyone hasn't stopped reading already, they will probably stop soon.

I think I have made my point by now anyways. Being a White Sox fan means a lot of things to me: constantly being second best (or second worst depending on how you look at it), repeatedly being victimized by bad timing, and dealing with all kinds of backwards and insulting situations. There is certainly nothing "easy" about being a White Sox fan.

If nothing else, consider the fact that I just spent all this time and effort belaboring the negative stuff I have experienced as a fan, at a time when the Sox are having an amazing season. They're 52-24, best record in the majors, playing some of the most exciting baseball I have ever seen on a nightly basis, but here I am wasting my time trying to explain to people why it's tough to be a fan.

So have I confused everyone thoroughly enough yet? Maybe I should've just said that it's Sox fan thing - if you aren't one, you wouldn't understand.