Chicago Has Two Baseball Teams?

The Chicago White Sox get no respect. Even when they're doing well, they don't get that much attention. They're leading major league baseball, the only team above .700, and the primary reaction is yeah, well, they'll drop soon (which they well might--we're still a long way from October). Last week, Sports Illustrated's Mark Bechtel named the White Sox the worst team to root for in professional sports. Why? Well, according to Bechtel, their stadium's no good and their announcer sucks. Strikes against them, to be sure, but enough to make them the worst team to root for in all professional sports? The real reason is that nobody cares. Apathy toward the White Sox is so strong that Bechtel doesn't even need to justify his pick.

One of the most telling recent examples of how Chicago just can't be bothered about the team happened in 2000 after they won the AL Central Division title. They'd won it on the road, in Minneapolis (actually they lost the game that night, but Cleveland, their only rival for the title, was eliminated from contention by their own loss to Kansas City). For their first home game since clinching the title--the triumphant homecoming--they brought in a crowd of 23,000, just over 50 percent capacity at Comiskey. (In the interest of full disclosure, my reason for being there wasn't to see the White Sox, either--I came to watch Pedro Martinez win for the Red Sox on his way to nabbing his second consecutive Cy Young.) Meanwhile, over at Wrigley Field, the Cubs were playing the Phillies in a meaningless game for the standings (at 29 and 30 games out of first, respectively, both teams had been out of contention for weeks). Wrigley Field drew 3,000 more paying fans than Comiskey did. A team headed for postseason play versus a team with a far lesser record but a more pleasant stadium in a more popular part of town. When that postseason team is the White Sox, it's hardly a surprise that the bigger draw can be found across town.