Random Thoughts on a Tuesday Afternoon

On a wall to my right is an autographed, 8x10 color photo of Walt Williams at Comiskey Park. Williams is taking a swing against that magnificent backdrop of outfield arches on a sunny day. To my immediate right is an 8x10 of Minnie Minoso, from a negative I bought on eBay. “Chicago” shows, barely, on Minoso’s uniform at the bottom of the photo, which could be from any of his first three tours with the Sox, 1951-57, 1960-61, 1964. This is not a smiling Minoso. Rather, he’s staring straight into the camera, a look of melancholy playing across his face, every pore and wrinkle hinting at what it took for him to be standing there. My great good fortune is to look at these photos most every day, along with others I’ve bought or taken. Check that. Michele took one, too, of me and Clare posing alongside Williams when he was managing an independent-league team in the mid-1990s. A real highpoint for me, that day. And let’s not forget the shots of Billy Austin, who lent his sweater to a seven-year old James T. Farrell (if you don’t know Farrell, you don’t know Chicago or baseball) at a Sox game in 1911; Smead Jolley; Monty Stratton; and Carlton Fisk, standing at the plate, adorned in the tools of ignorance, waiting for the next batter to irritate him. I took a lot of good pictures the season of 1990. Today, The Athletic released its results of the latest Sox fans’ survey. It appears we don’t like the owner much. Here’s the thing—the weather in Chicago changes every five minutes, Sox ownership every fifty years, or so it feels. Consider the following. Since 1900, the team has been controlled by the Comiskey family; Bill Veeck (twice); brothers John and Arthur Allyn, followed by John alone; and Jerry Reinsdorf, first with, and now without Eddie Einhorn. In that same time, the Philadelphia Phillies have had fourteen owners. Heck, the expansion Washington Senators/Texas Rangers have had ten different owners or ownership groups since their inception in 1961. All this time I thought change was good. My bad. At least I have some nice baseball photos to keep me going.