Ultimate Baseball Road Trip (81 page)

Read Ultimate Baseball Road Trip Online

Authors: Josh Pahigian,Kevin O’Connell

In 1927 a double-decked outfield grandstand was constructed at Comiskey, completely enclosing the park while accommodating more than twenty-three thousand new
seats. Though it seated many, the enclosure gave Comiskey an intimate feel that most folks from the South Side remember fondly. The first ever All-Star Game was played at Comiskey on July 6, 1933. See what renovation and modernization, done well, can accomplish? But the Sox weren’t done improving the grounds yet. Lights were added in 1939 to facilitate night games. Then on July 5, 1947, lights of a different kind went on in Comiskey when Cleveland’s Larry Doby broke the American League color barrier pinch-hitting against the White Sox. Doby struck out in his first at-bat but got a hit the next day, starting at first base.

The Midsummer Classic returned to the grand old park in 1950 in the form of a thirteen-inning marathon that saw the National League win 4–3. White Sox shortstop Luke Appling would retire later that year after playing 2,422 games in a Chicago uniform. In 1951 Minnie Minoso became the first African-American player to take the field for the Sox, and he did so in grand style, homering off Vic Raschi of the Yankees in his first game. Who knew then that fifty years later Minnie would meet Josh and Kevin in Wrigleyville when their seminal road trip brought them to Chicago?

In 1958 the first Bill Veeck era began, one that would bring the White Sox many of their current traditions and many enhancements to the old ballpark. Veeck would become a baseball marketing legend, to the extent that South Shields Street is today known as Bill Veeck Drive. There are too many interesting stories about Veeck’s wacky promotions to list them all, but we’ll do our best in the pages ahead to hit some of the highs and lows. If Veeck’s style catches your fancy, we suggest reading his autobiography
Veeck, as in Wreck,
or the simply titled biography
Bill Veeck
, by Gerald Eskenazi.

The Sox quickly flourished under Veeck’s inspired leadership, winning the pennant in 1959 to end a forty-year drought. Unfortunately for the Sox, Veeck was forced by ill health to sell his interest in the team in 1961. He would later reemerge as owner in 1975. In between the Veeck years some even crazier things happened on the South Side, but none held any comedic value to Sox fans. The low point came when the Sox, in an effort to bolster flagging attendance, played one “home” game against each of their AL opponents in Milwaukee at County Stadium. They had losing records both years, and fears that the team might permanently make Milwaukee its home made Chicago fans mighty nervous. Also, in 1969 Astroturf was laid at Comiskey. The team responded to the plastic grass by having its worst season ever in 1970, losing 106 games. Ouch.

But by 1973 the Sox were on the rebound. A May 20th doubleheader against the Minnesota Twins drew a Comiskey record 55,555 fans. And by 1975 Veeck was back at the helm, and the hijinks and fun picked up where they had left off, even if the Sox still couldn’t bring home a World Series title. In 1976 natural grass returned to Comiskey. “Thank you, Lord.” Perhaps the secret to success for an owner comes in knowing what features not to mess with in order to preserve the history of the game alongside being adventurous enough to try something new. Veeck tried morning baseball, scheduling the first pitch for 10:30 a.m. to accommodate third-shift factory workers. This was another innovation that didn’t catch on. In 1978 Larry Doby replaced Bob Lemon as manager, becoming the second African-American manager in AL history and the first for the Sox. On July 12, 1979, in a move way ahead of its time, Veeck sponsored “Disco Demolition Night,” during which fans were encouraged to bring disco records to the ballpark for their destruction between games of a doubleheader. Good idea, Bill—at least on paper. We hate disco, too, but after fans sent thousands of records Frisbeeing onto the field and a riot started in the stands complete with small fires, the nightcap against the Tigers was forfeited. Ouch again.

Perhaps Disco Demolition Night was the beginning of the end, because Veeck sold the
team to Jerry Reinsdorf in 1981. In 1982 a new exploding scoreboard, with improvements such as a color video board, appeared, as did new dugouts and luxury suites. In 1983 Comiskey hosted the All-Star Game, played on July 6. Fifty years earlier to the day, on the same field, the first All-Star Game had taken place. In the Golden Anniversary game, the AL won 13–3, paced by a Fred Lynn grand slam. Lynn’s blast was the first grand salami in the history of the Midsummer Classic. The Sox would go on to clinch the AL West title that year and win the division by twenty games—an MLB record that stood until 1998 when the Yankees finished twenty-two ahead of the Red Sox. But the White Sox fell to Baltimore three games to one in the 1983 ALCS. In 1984, the longest game in AL history was played at Comiskey between the White Sox and Brewers. The game lasted twenty-five innings and spanned two days before Harold Baines ended it with a walk-off homer to give the Sox a 7-6 win.

It took thirteen years after moving into their new ballpark, but in 2005 the White Sox at last put together all the ingredients necessary for a World Series run. Sox fans had endured decades, eras, and generations of disappointment that spanned the Black Sox years, the era of the Go-Go Sox, and the South Side Hit-men’s day. They’d witnessed playing greats such as Luis Aparicio, Carlton Fisk, and Frank Thomas fail to deliver a championship. They’d survived an attempt by Bud Selig to buy and relocate the team to Milwaukee and even threats from the White Sox owner to move the team. And they’d survived the move from Old Comiskey to “The Cell.” They’d endured all of it, and in the end, through an improbable run, they came out on top.

After leading the AL Central for most of the summer of 2005, a late-season slump saw the Sox slip behind the Cleveland Indians. Where earlier White Sox editions might have folded, the 2005 Sox were different. Their manager, the fiery, contentious, and hilariously difficult to understand Ozzie Guillen had infused the club with his tough, never-say-die personality. Playing what became known as “Ozzie-Ball,” or “Grinderball,” which took the focus off power hitting, and put it on winning through a gritty style of play, the White Sox dispensed with the other Sox, those of the Red variety, in three straight games in the AL Division Series.

Josh:
We know who the true Sox are.

Kevin:
You know that Chicago is a far bigger city than Boston, right?

Josh:
Yeah, but we have better chowder.

The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, of Orange County, of Southern California, of Los Angeles, of the United States, handed the Sox their only playoff loss during 2005, in Game 1 of the AL Championship Series. It was a march of destiny for the Sox from then on, as four straight Sox pitchers—Mark Buehrle, Jon Garland, Freddy Garcia, and Jose Contreras—threw four straight complete-game victories to dispose of the Angels. For Sox fans, Game 2 of the World Series against the Astros will be the one to remember, because it was at home, and it ended in such dramatic fashion. In the bottom of the seventh inning, with two outs and down 4-2, White Sox slugger Jermaine Dye was at the plate with two runners on base. Dye was hit by a pitch and awarded first, though replays confirmed that the ball hit his bat. Paul Konerko stepped up and rocketed one of two epic Game 2 home runs, a grand slam to give the Sox a 6-4 lead. The other epic shot came from an unlikely source, Scott Podsednik. After the Astros tied the game at six in the top of the ninth, the light-hitting lefty came to the plate in the bottom of the inning having not hit a single home run during the regular season. Scotty Pods’ blast to right-center lifted the Sox to a 7-6 victory. As Sox fans celebrated, listening to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing,” they came to believe theirs was a team of destiny, and they were right
.
Though there was much great action in the rest of the series, it became apparent throughout the four games that the Sox were not going to lose. It was their year. The two epic home run blasts that gave the Sox the win in Game 2 are marked where they landed by blue seats in the outfield.

Trivia Timeout

Strong Breeze:
Which two White Sox hit homers that are commemorated with specially colored outfield seats at The Cell?

Gale Force:
Name five Grinder Rules from the Ozzie Era.

Hurricane:
Name five (of the many) players honored with statues at The Cell.

Look for the answers in the text.

Kevin:
It’s interesting that the Red Sox and White Sox droughts ended a year apart.

Josh:
Who’s next? The Indians or the Cubs?

Kevin:
How about the Mariners?

The Sox’ World Series victory was truly one for the fans. The parade route began at The Cell and wound through all the neighborhoods of the South Side on its way downtown. It was one of the better tributes to a fan base hanging in there with their team, always showing their support and
love, and never losing the faith, if you will pardon cliché. All teams claim to love their fans for their support, especially after a playoff run, but what do they actually do for their fans? When the time came to “Cell-a-brate” the White Sox brought the party to their fans’ historic neighborhoods and very doorsteps. It was as true an act of mutual devotion and respect as we have seen from an organization.

Another sweet moment was Buehrle’s perfect game against the Tampa Bay Rays in 2009, a game saved in the ninth inning when defensive replacement DeWayne Wise made a ridiculous catch in center field to rob Gabe Kapler of a home run. Wise had the ball in his glove but it popped out and he had to snare it with his bare hand before he (and it) fell to the ground. A poem titled “The Catch” can be found printed at the location where Wise saved the game. Look for the spot above Frank Thomas’s retired number.

Getting a Choice Seat

Even with the recent success of the team, White Sox tickets aren’t as tough to come by as they are expensive. But there’s no ballpark in the league where we recommend ponying up the extra change more than at The Cell, because the difference in the experience can be dramatic. If you buy an upper deck seat, you will have a fairly lousy experience. If you get into the 100 level, the atmosphere is infinitely better, and so is the food.

Unless the hated North Side Nine are in town, getting a ticket on game day shouldn’t be any hassle. Unless the Sox are making a playoff run, they don’t sell out too many of their games.

Infield Box and Club Level (Sections 121–143, 312–357)

Forget about these seats unless you have a Chi-town connection. They’re available for season ticket plans only. But if you can find them from a broker or on the streets they are quite good. Sections 131–133 are the sections directly behind home plate, in case there’s any discrepancy with the scalper who’s trying to make a deal with you. A crooked scalper in Chicago? Get outta here!

Lower Deck Box (Sections 109–120, 144–155)

These are the best seats we plebes are allowed to buy, and they are pretty good. It feels spacious on the first level at U.S. Cellular Field, likely because the upper deck is pushed back away from the lower level. The design of the park ensures that there’s no overhang problem at all, which is good for the lower level, but pushes the upper deck into the stratosphere.

A very low retaining wall separates the field level seats from the field, which is great for autograph hounds or for those wishing to lean over to snag a ball along the third-base side during batting practice. Josh got a ball during infield warm-ups after only five innings of pestering.

The lower bowl has more rows than most parks, twenty-eight by Josh’s count. Again, good if you can get them. You may have to take a rather lengthy hike to find the men’s room or get another beer, but find a seat in these sections. There are times on a baseball road trip to open up the wallet and let some of the road flies out. U.S. Cellular Field is one of them as the good seats are pretty good, but the bad seats are horrible. Another thing about the rows on the first level: They rarely go more than seventeen seats across without an aisle break, and the aisles are nice and wide. So with only eight or fewer seats to either side of you, it’s almost like everyone has a box seat.

Lower Deck Reserved (Sections 100–108, 156–159)

If you buy your tickets from the window on game day, these will most likely be the best seats available. So make the most of the situation. Avoid Sections 156 and 108 as they have foul-pole obstructions. Also steer clear of Sections 100 and 101, as the batter’s eye and the massive concrete patio in center field wreak havoc on the sight lines. In Section 101 sit only in Row 15 or lower, and in Section 100 don’t get caught behind Row 10. Other than that, the advantage of building a field with fairly symmetrical dimensions is that the sight lines are largely preserved. And remember, old Comiskey had symmetrical dimensions, too, so we’re not arguing with that decision. That’s not the problem here. Candidly, we feel one of the main problems with U.S. Cellular Field is old Comiskey Park. People who don’t remember how intimate the old park was (or who grew up watching the Mariners play in the Kingdome) don’t have nearly as much to say about how large and sterile the new park is.

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