Winds of Change : Baseball-Obsessed Fans of Chicago Face Loss of White Sox to Florida and Will See Their Cubs in New Light

“When I was a kid I used to pray that the Cubs and White Sox would merge; it would settle all the differences in the city and then Chicago would have only one bad team.”

--Comedian Tom Dreesen in “The Cubbies”

Soon enough, if the White Sox follow through on their threat to relocate to St. Petersburg, Fla., Chicago may well have only one bad team: the Cubs. And that would be just peachy with most people in this baseball-obsessed city, except that one of the qualities that makes the Cubs so adorable -- a home schedule with only day games -- will be lost by the end of the season.

The first night game in the history of Wrigley Field has finally been scheduled, for Aug. 8 against the Philadelphia Phillies, the Cubs announced this week. Six more night games will follow and as many as 18 night games will be played in 1989. By then, the White Sox will be gone or well on their way to playing in a new stadium.

In a city without a World Series since 1959 and no World Series winner since 1917, this summer’s ordeal is not being taken lightly.

It’s an especially trying time for Harry Caray, who spent eight years as the voice of the White Sox and the last six as voice of the Cubs. It’s no secret that he gags at the very sight of White Sox owners Jerry Reinsdorf and Eddie Einhorn, and thinks the installation of lights at historic Wrigley Field is akin to colorizing “Casablanca.”

Many people here find it unthinkable that the Cubs will play at night, or that the White Sox -- one of the oldest franchises in the major leagues -- will move. Caray speaks for both groups, and says:

“I just can’t believe that the American League would allow the Sox to move out of this town.”

Indications are that, unless the Illinois legislature approves a hefty financial aid package for a new stadium, the White Sox will try to steal away to the Suncoast Dome in St. Petersburg.

“Can you imagine the American League turning over this city, the greatest city in baseball, exclusively to the National League?” Caray asked in disbelief. “I can’t. This is a city of eight million people. The Cubs drew 2,108,000 last year and they finished in last place, playing only day games, with every game televised for free. That’s unique in sports.”

The word “unique” brings Caray to that other topic -- lights. More disbelief. More passion:

“Wrigley Field should be maintained as a landmark. People should be able to come here and see how beautiful baseball used to be.”

His voice is rising now, and the people right behind him in the stands start applauding. He looks up to the roof over the third base grandstand where three light towers already have been installed (three more will be installed on the first base side), and frowns. “Generation after generation of kids grow up, get on the ‘El’ and ride to the park, and are back home by 5. This is a mecca for the youth in this region. And there’s no question in my mind that the kids here will lose some of their interest in baseball if more and more games are played at night. They say 18 games only, and I hope it’s always on a limited basis.”

“By the time a player gets home after a night game, the dog is asleep. There is no relationship.”

--Hall of Famer Ernie Banks in “The Cubbies”

Probably, more people in Chicago care about lights atop Wrigley Field than whether the White Sox move, because more people care about the Cubs. The near monopoly hasn’t existed long. The White Sox didn’t have a losing season during 1951-1967 and outdrew the Cubs in 16 of those years. The White Sox won the city attendance race four times during 1980-1985.

But the fact that the Cubs are on free TV, on the superstation WGN that is beamed all over the country while the White Sox are on subscription TV that isn’t even beamed to half the city has helped kill the White Sox’ marketability in Chicago. TV and marketing people in Chicago believe Caray’s switch to the North Side in 1982 helped the Cubs, even at the box office, and helped virtually kill the White Sox’ following in the 18-35 age group.

Now, the Cubs are perhaps the only club in the majors that knows it can lose and draw more than two million. Part of what those people buy into is Wrigley Field, a ballyard with ivy, real grass, bleachers, no electronic scoreboard and -- until now, at least -- no lights.

Cubs tradition would have you believe that was by design; it wasn’t. In the late 1930s, Philip K. Wrigley wanted the Cubs to be the first major league team to play at night. But after the Cincinnati Reds beat the Cubs to it, he let the lights rust in a nearby yard. He planned to install them in the early 1940s, but the World War II effort needed the steel from the light towers, and he was more than happy to cooperate.

The issue of lights popped up now and then, such as when the Cubs would wilt in the August heat as they did in 1969. Some Cubs figured it was the best job in the world to play in a shrine, be out of the locker room by 5 p.m. and on Rush Street by 6. As pitcher Bill Caudill once said: “Show me a Chicago Cub without sacks under his eyes and I’ll show you a Cub who’s only been with the team two weeks.”

Steve Stone, Caray’s WGN broadcast partner and a former pitcher for both Chicago teams, thinks there should be less emphasis on all the intangibles that go along with the Cubs and more emphasis on winning.

“Harry thinks the Cubs will lose some of their uniqueness and I guess that’s so,” Stone said. “But perhaps that might lead to more emphasis on winning. There’s still 63 games under the bright sun. To say that the product is now tainted because there are lights is an overstatement. To me, the Cubs should do anything to stay in Wrigley. It’s Wrigley that is the magnet.”

Lights became a major issue in 1984, when the Cubs finally won something -- the National League East. Suppose the Cubs got into the World Series? How can you have prime-time Series action from a park with no lights? In 1985, when the Cubs were in first place again, Baseball Commissioner Peter Ueberroth said the Cubs might have to play postseason games in St. Louis’ Busch Stadium -- the closest NL park with lights -- if management didn’t install lights.

After a long battle -- involving neighborhood residents who want no lights, the city politicians who were split and the club’s owner, the Tribune Co., which was caught in the middle -- enough parties agreed that lights would be installed.

“We view this as an opportunity for more fans to experience Cubs baseball and a positive step to ensure that our club remains competitive in major league baseball,” Don Grenesko, Cubs vice president for business operations, said this week.

“I can’t tell you how many fans come up to me and say, ‘No matter what you do, beat the Cubs.’ I ask them, ‘Wouldn’t you rather have us win the division?’ You’d be surprised at how many say no.”

-- Former White Sox Manager Tony La Russa in “The Cubbies”

Comiskey Park is pretty cozy, too, but it’s located between two rotten neighborhoods, and has never been marketed with enthusiasm. Throw in a multiyear renovation of the only expressway that brings people to Comiskey, and the White Sox have a mess.

Critics have suggested that they traded off all their high-salaried veterans (Floyd Bannister and Richard Dotson, to name two) in anticipation of terrible attendance. Even if they were to win the AL West, they wouldn’t draw as many people as a losing Cubs team.

And that brings us to one of the primary reasons the White Sox might very well leave Chicago after playing there 89 seasons: jealousy.

Yes, Einhorn and Reinsdorf are looking at the bottom line. A move to St. Petersburg would put tens of millions of dollars in the till.

But down South, the team would have no competition. (The White Sox currently are the fourth most important team in Chicago -- behind the Bears, Cubs and Jordan-Bulls.) Best of all, they would have no Cubs.

Paul Jensen, the White Sox’ public relations director, says that overcoming the mystique of Wrigley and the corporate power (marketing and financial) of the Tribune Co. is like dueling with Zorro. And Stone says, “There’s a certain acceptance, now, that comes to the Cubs, regardless of winning and losing, which makes it mandatory for the other team in town to win. And the Sox haven’t been winning. They’ve got to spend some money and put a team on the field.

“But there’s a misconception around town that the Cubs and the people associated with the club would be disappointed if the White Sox left town. That’s wrong. The city of Chicago would lose a great deal if the Sox moved. I think the city, including a lot of Cubs fans, love the fact that we’re one of only three cities in the country with two major league clubs.”

Mike Royko, the Chicago Tribune columnist, said he thinks chances are 50-50 the White Sox will fly south. And he has mixed feelings. “That’s ‘cause I don’t want a lot of Sox people coming to Wrigley,” he said. “I’ve been to Sox Park (Cubs fans love calling Comiskey “Sox Park” to upset South Siders) three times: Once to see Joe DiMaggio, once to see Ted Williams and once to see Mickey Mantle. I think I went there a fourth time on assignment, to do a story about cops at Sox Park taking illegal bribes.”

Reinsdorf and Einhorn haven’t been commenting publicly, but it’s no secret that they see Florida the same way Brooklyn Dodgers boss Walter O’Malley saw California 30 years ago, as the last frontier.

Illinois Gov. James Thompson has said he wants to keep the team in Chicago, but the state’s reported offer falls more than $50 million short of the Florida package. He says it won’t be easy to pass the sweetheart deal, which includes a a bond authorization of $150 million and a rent-free clause if attendance in the proposed new stadium drops under 1.2 million.

The governor found an unexpected show of support when the Tribune ran an ad encouraging White Sox fans to show their support for the team by sending white socks to the mayor of St. Petersburg to protest the city’s bid for their team. But he also found, at a recent session to discuss the potential move, that some legislators were wearing Cubs caps.