But Boyer seems full of plans and energy, eager to root out any complacency that might have touched members of the marketing staff left over from Rob Gallas' 15-year regime.
The task is all the more difficult because Chicago is a two-team major-league city. Boyer's competition isn't just the norm of concerts, movies, beaches and other summer attractions. He also has to face the Cubs across town.
"We're competing with each other," Boyer acknowledged. "There's a rivalry on the field during those six [Cubs-Sox interleague] games. There's a rivalry off the field every day because we're competing for the fans' attention, for sponsorship dollars, for season-ticket holders, for general walk-up ticket purchasers.
"We're competing for all that. There's no question we're competing for that."
As if to underscore that belief, Boyer's first major endeavor on behalf of the Sox was a television commercial poking fun at the Cubs' exalted status in the marketplace. Some viewed it as counterproductive: Why call attention to your bitter rival? But Boyer considered it a good-natured attempt to remind people that the South Side entry is a viable entity with pride, history and strengths of its own.
Across town, at the Wrigley Field offices of the Cubs, vice president of marketing and broadcasting John McDonough looks at year after year of record numbers. He can afford to remain above the fray.
"We don't market against the White Sox," McDonough said. "We market to enhance the Cubs. The White Sox have their job to do and we have our own job to do. We certainly don't market to the rhythm of what's going on over there."
McDonough's denial is symbolic of the current relationship between the two teams, an unequal balance in which the jaunty North Siders always seems to be just out of reach of the Sox. This despite the Sox's history of performing somewhat better on the field, last season's results notwithstanding.
Extricating a team from that kind of second-fiddle status presents a formidable challenge to Boyer. "I think [the Sox] can get closer to what the Cubs have in terms of attendance and fan interest," said Marc Ganis, president of the Chicago-based sports marketing firm Sportscorp, Ltd. "But it will be a generation or two before they can hope to exceed the Cubs. The Cubs have become an institution; the White Sox are still a baseball team. There's a mystique, a history, which the Cubs have and the White Sox don't.
"There's no marketing slogan that is going to create a feeling of nostalgia and wistfulness for any sports team."
In moving from the United Center to U.S. Cellular Field, Boyer inherits the daunting task of trying to change some less-than-flattering perceptions of the White Sox.
While he can't influence the team's place in the standings, he can alter the way people think about the team and the ballpark. And he plans to.
Backing him up is the two clubs' history. The Cubs' surge toward city domination began in 1984, when they reached the playoffs for the first time in 39 years. They simultaneously were becoming a national attraction thanks to WGN's reach as a cable-TV superstation and Harry Caray's cult-figure status. Wrigley Field became a must-see stop for tourists who had seen the ancient ballyard on TV and heard Caray literally sing its praises.
U.S. Cellular never will be Wrigley Field, but it has its er, charms.
"The thing we have to do is educate our fans to the new amenities of the ballpark, educate them to what our team is all about," Boyer said. "We need to get [the players'] personalities out there. In the short term, we'll change the way our players are introduced and come onto the field. You're going to see probably more entertainment at our games than you've seen in the past.
"What we want to do is create an atmosphere here that's fun to come to every time."
Boyer emphasizes the aggressiveness he wants to accent. Unlike the Cubs, who set major-league records for tickets sold in one- and three-day periods in late February and who are virtually sold out for the season, the White Sox cannot open the gates and simply start counting money.