Saying goodbye to a baseball season in Chicago is never easy, even one as disappointing as 2024.
The White Sox broke the modern-day record for losses — they finished 41-121 — overshadowing the Cubs’ failure to live up to the early-season hype that greeted new manager Craig Counsell.
It’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before. Losing is as accepted in Chicago as potholes, crooked politicians and unplowed side streets after a snowstorm. When you choose to make this town your home, you need to live with all the headaches that come with that decision.
Like snowflakes, no two seasons are alike.
But the reaction of angst-ridden Sox fans Tuesday and Wednesday, rooting for a Sox loss to break the expansion 1962 New York Mets’ record, reminded me of the ending of the 2004 Cubs, a talented team that fans booed at Wrigley Field for its late collapse, the boorish behavior of its players and the team’s feud with broadcaster Steve Stone over his caustic commentary.
Sox fans chanted “Sell the team” at the end of ‘24. Cubs fans chanted “Stoney, Stoney” at the end of ’04. Times change, but the passion of our baseball fans never wavers.
Still, the way the season played out for both teams was difficult to watch, in person and especially on TV. The gaslighting by White Sox announcer John Schriffren on the team’s obvious deficiencies, and his constant need to make the broadcast about himself, was off-putting despite Stone’s spot-on analysis.
Marquee Sports Network all too often turned into the PCA Network, extolling the bright future of rookie center fielder Pete Crow-Armstrong while the team continued to flounder. Only pre- and postgame analyst Cliff Floyd had the courage to criticize Counsell on occasion, while Sox manager Pedro Grifol was a constant target of NBC Sports Chicago’s Ozzie Guillén until his firing on Aug. 8.
Never a discouraging word was heard on either station about the two men most responsible for our dueling disappointments — White Sox Chairman Jerry Reinsdorf and Cubs Chairman Tom Ricketts. No one wanted to mention the emperor’s new clothes. But when it came to promoting a charity or an upcoming event, you could rely on Cubs and Sox broadcasts to remind us ad nauseum.
Reinsdorf on Sunday released a letter to Sox fans, calling the team’s performance “completely unacceptable” and labeling the season as “a failure” and “embarrassing” while accepting responsibility.
“As the leader of this organization, that is my ultimate responsibility,” he wrote. “There are no excuses. … You all deserved better.”
I spent part of Thursday at Sox Park walking around the ballpark, saying goodbye to old friends on the final home game of the season. Everyone was happy for a grueling year to end on a beautiful 73-degree afternoon that would’ve been a Top 10 weather day in any season. One friend handed me a T-shirt as a keepsake of the season, with a quote by Grifol printed on the front: “We’re going to prepare every night to kick your ass.”
That was one of Grifol’s opening remarks when he took the job as Sox manager, and the irony was not lost on fans. The ones who came out in the rain Tuesday as the Sox avoided setting a record of 121 losses deserved some kind of reward for showing up.
In the 1980s, the San Francisco Giants gave out pins to fans who stayed for extra-inning games at cold, windy Candlestick Park, calling it the Croix de Candlestick. Inscribed on the pin was the Latin phrase, “Veni, Vidi, Vixi,” or “I came, I saw, I survived.”
The Sox easily could’ve borrowed that idea and had players toss them to fans. A Croix de Comiskey? Maybe next year.
The Sox wound up with an attendance of 1,380,733, averaging 17,046 over 77 home games (four turned into straight doubleheaders), the fewest in 25 years at the ballpark. And even that number was skewed by a few popular giveaways, as well as the Cubs-Sox series and opening day.
Otherwise, the ballpark was frequently more than half-empty. The much-maligned upper deck often was closed, a cost-saving move by the Sox that also served as an admission that the layout of the ballpark was a colossal mistake.
Reinsdorf wants to build a new ballpark in the South Loop that would correct the flaws of the current one and have a real entertainment district nearby. It looks very cool and would benefit the city if a deal were to get done.
Alas, unless Reinsdorf pays for it himself or finds other investors, it’s probably as dead as the rat hole. No one wants to subsidize Reinsdorf’s grand plan, especially after watching the Sox wind up on the wrong side of history this year.
The Cubs finished their season Sunday at Wrigley Field, which continued to be their biggest drawing card. Even a mediocre 83-79 year couldn’t keep fans away, just as tourists flock to the Bean or Navy Pier. The older it gets, the more beloved Wrigley becomes.
It’s no wonder the Cubs announced an average ticket price hike of 3% after the fourth consecutive season without a postseason appearance. The product on the field is irrelevant to president of business operations Crane Kenney, the one employee the Rickettses credit for the ballpark’s ability to attract fans and make them money. If the sun refused to shine, they’d still be lovin’ you.
This was one of the blandest Cubs seasons in recent memory, with only one standout player — Shota Imanaga — and few moments that will live on long after we’ve forgotten their record. Counsell waited until they were eliminated to state the obvious: The Cubs were not built to win 90 games. President Jed Hoyer concurred last week in Philadelphia.
Maybe they should’ve admitted that in spring training and lowered expectations?
But how would the Cubs have justified their high ticket prices for a barely .500 team miles behind the division-winning Milwaukee Brewers?
Oh, well. At least the weather was great this summer, even with the wind always blowing in. And the ascension of Imanaga and Crow-Armstrong as stars of the so-called “next great Cubs team” provides some optimism for 2025. It’s a start at least.
There weren’t too many lessons learned on either side of town in 2024. But you made it through without any real pain, other than the usual mental anguish that goes along with being a Cubs or Sox fan.
Veni, Vidi, Vixi.
Wait till next year.
