A Good Question

Yesterday was one of my favorite days of the year, when we take part in Open House Chicago. It’s a chance to visit literally hundreds of buildings that ordinarily wouldn’t be open to the public. Our itinerary took us from the West Side to the North Side. The weather was mid-October perfect, clear skies and cool temperatures. So, of course I wore my 1959 White Sox jacket with matching cap. Talk about showing the colors in enemy territory. Though I have to admit nobody seemed to take offense. Two people even shouted, “Go, Sox!” and they sounded sincere. Then, there was the docent at St, Mary of the Lake on Sheridan Road, who asked me, “Are you rooting for Cleveland?” I answered her as best I could. “Yes, and no.” If you’re going to lose, it might as well be to the team that goes on to win the World Series. But I’m still mad enough to think the Sox lost the ALDS more than the Guardians won it. And rooting for Jose Ramirez may be a bridge too far for me. Then again, Cleveland has the smallest payroll in baseball. That has to make the owners uncomfortable on the eve of a lockout, which is fine by me.

What We’ve Got Here is a Failure to Communicate

For the first time in nearly a month since suffering his hamstring injury, Bears’ quarterback Caleb Williams addressed the media on Thursday, and, boy, was he steamed. Willimas told reporters he had in fact suffered a “hamstring tear, and a pretty serious one” against the Vikings back on September 20. Until Thursday’s press conference, neither Williams nor coach Ben Johnson had felt the need to offer any clarity on the extent of the injury. Somehow, the inevitable speculation that followed their silence—dare I say collusion of silence?—is the media’s fault. How else to explain Williams’ belief that the sports’ media world was “not deserving” of any clarification? [both quotes from story in yesterday’s Sun-Times] Just so we’re clear here: Williams and Johnson provided zero updates on his condition—remember Johnson even hinting Williams might play the following week—and the resulting confusion is someone else’s fault? Please. Just imagine if Mike Vasil of the White Sox had tried to keep his Tommy John surgery a secret. There wouldn’t have been much “Magic Mike” all summer. A more upfront approach to reporting injuries is just one of the differences between baseball and football. You could probably compile a pretty long list of them.

By the Numbers

The Brewers beat the Dodgers 6-4 last night and won themselves their first-ever NL pennant. They await the winner of the Rays-Guardians’ series. Earlier, the Guardians defeated the Rays 3-2 on an afternoon without a hint of the rain that caused the game to be moved up five hours. With two more wins, Cleveland earns its first AL pennant since 2016 and a shot at its first World Series title since 1948. So, why all the empty seats at both games? By my count, there were some 3,400 no-shows in Cleveland and 6,800-plus in LA. Yes, changing the game time in Cleveland could’ve affected plans, just as people who suddenly couldn’t attend in the afternoon could’ve sold their tickets on the secondary market. As for the empty seats in Dodger Stadium, it looks like a case of West Coast ennui. What I know for certain is this—The Rate would’ve been packed. Wrigley Field, too.

The Cynic in Me

The starting time for today’s Rays-Guardians’ ALCS game has been moved up from 5 PM to Noon, Chicago time, on account of expected rain come evening. That makes sense. But I wonder. Do you think a starting time in New York, Boston or Philadelphia would ever be that early, PM commercial rates and all? I’d ask the same about the Dodgers, but it doesn’t rain in LA, except for the little cloud dumping on the teetering Angelenos, facing elimination tonight by the Brewers, and that has more to do with age than weather.

Coming Down

The beginning of this baseball season, Michele and I were running around Los Angeles, leaving me to catch up on the White Sox through MLB.com. Last week, Clare and I were at The Rate for game four of the ALDS against the Guardians. And now my baseball season is over. On the plus side, no more anxiety or frustration. Colson Montgomery and Munetaka Murakami are done striking out, manager Vibes Venable has made his last head-scratching move of the year. Only, it’ll be another six months—or more, given the owners’ intention to lock out the players in December—before I get to see Sam Antonacci do his thing or before I can gauge Antonacci’s growth. Or Chase Meidroth’s or Miguel Vargas’s. This winter, the only hot-stove league may be in my imagination.

Eek! Eek! A Mouse!

The baseball establishment moved one step closer to full-out panic last night as the team with the 19th highest payroll per USA Today took a 2-0 series lead in the NLCS over the team with the second highest payroll. Brewers 7 Dodgers 4. The big-market team hoping for a three-peat—thereby justifying the need for a salary cap, to protect the little guys, who may or may not be worth a billion dollars—looked, how to put it, old as they got outhit 12-3 in Milwaukee. Maybe things will swing the Dodgers’ way with a change of venue starting tomorrow, or maybe not. But right now, Shohei Ohtani looks every bit the injury-ridden 32-year old. Not that Mookie Betts or Freddie Freeman or Will Smith is performing any better. Pity poor Rob Manfred. If the Brewers go up three games to none tomorrow, he’ll have to start looking at new talking points to justify an owners’ lockout in December. Oh, I’m sure he’ll find them. But I can’t help but enjoy the squirm.

Bad Start

I doubt any baseball team owner outside of Milwaukee is rooting for a Dodgers’ loss in the NLCS. If LA doesn’t get its three-peat, the owners can’t argue for a salary cap when they lock out the players—you can bet on that happening—come December. Big-market, small-market disparities and all that. But lose the Dodgers did, 2-1, The home-team Brewers used fourteen position players and pitcher in total, the only recognizable name belonging to starter Jacob Misiorowski. That’s because MLB and the networks dig the fastball. Only Misiorowski didn’t get the win, D.L, Hall—who he?—did. But Tarik Skubal picked up the loss because his teammates hit like, well, the White Sox. I mean, Ohtani, Betts and company are supposed to do better than one run on seven hits, right? And being the recipients of six walks should lead to more than one run in the second inning, yes? Forgive me if I forgot to mention the three double plays the visitors hit into. The Brewers against the world? In a corporate-boardroom sort of way, yes.