In late May of 1976, my mom took me to Comiskey Park for a doubleheader against the Oakland Athletics. It was a chilly Sunday in Chicago and my mom just got done directing the choir at Mass. We jumped into her brown 1969 Chevy Nova and headed over to Sox Park.
Luckily my mom took me home quickly so I could change out of my church pants and hard shoes, but I still had to wear my dress shirt to the game.
I was nine years old and by this time in my life I had been to twenty to thirty Cub games and about ten or fifteen White Sox games. A few times on school field trips and the other times with my parents. My mom took me to the majority of those games while my dad was at work building Choo Choo trains.
My mom parked near the old ballpark and when I got out of the car, I stepped in a puddle. My shoes were soaked and my socks were soggy.
I squished with every step I took. We entered the park and the first thing my mom did was buy a scorecard and a Sox pencil. She asked the scorecard guy if there was a chance the concession stand sold socks.
A guy with a wooden leg was leaning on the program stand. He turned around and told my mom that they sold White Sox socks at a stand down the third baseline.
That guy was Bill Veeck.
The souvenir stand sold individual Sox socks that had the team logo and White Sox written down the front. She bought two and when we got to the seats, my mom helped me change. It was cold on that Sunday in May. My mom rubbed my bare feet to warm them up. I was so embarrassed and thought everyone in our section was watching.
The Sox ended up sweeping the A’s. That was the day Old Comiskey surpassed Wrigley Field as my favorite ballpark.
I’ve been both a Cub and Sox fan during my 21,130 days, most of them rooting for the Palehose.
That was the only time I ever came across the Godfather of Chicago baseball.
Bill Veeck planted the Ivy in Wrigley. He had a midget play for him when he owned the Saint Louis Browns. He hired the first black player in the American League when he owned the Cleveland Indians. He took the Sox to a pennant and put in the pinwheel scoreboard the first time he owned the GoGoSox.
The second time he owned the Southside team they wore short pants and had disco demolition.
…and he sold me on the White Sox when he sold me fresh socks.
Don’t forget…
If it wasn’t for Mr. Veeck, we would have never heard Harry Carey sing during the seventh inning stretch.
Today’s quote is typical Veeck. It reminds us that it is never too late to become a better version of ourselves. It also shows us how important baseball was in the nurturing of America back before it became money-ball.
I’m going to the ballgame today, but not on 35th street. I’m going to the field up on Addison. I haven’t been there since it’s been turned into Disneyland.
After the game I’m going to watch my horse come in last down at the Kentucky Derby.
The sun has a smile and even though the Cubbies aren’t playing two… I’m still going to smell and hear a baseball game. The two best senses used at a professional baseball game.
Go out and enjoy this gorgeous day and be astonished.
Back to the quote real quick.
Yeah, I’d definitely be nicer in life, but I’d still be a Sox fan.
