John Kass article

[southsider2k5]

The first-place Chicago White Sox took the day off Tuesday, giving me time to interview two fans of the first-place Chicago White Sox.

 

One is Dave Wills. The former pre- and postgame radio host of the first-place Chicago White Sox now calls the Tampa Bay Devil Rays games on radio.

 

"I still like the [first-place Chicago] White Sox," Wills said. "But I'm living a dream with the Devil Rays. The only thing, I can't find a decent pizza down here."

 

Another fan is Jimbo Levato, owner of Jimbo's tavern. I told Jimbo the depressing news. According to recent news reports, he doesn't exist.

 

"What do you mean I don't exist?" said Jimbo on the phone from his tavern, Jimbo's, near White Sox park, where the first-place White Sox play. Jimbo serves cold beer and hot food.

 

"I exist!" he said. "Can't you hear me?"

 

The New York Times wasn't attacking Jimbo's, per se. His tavern wasn't even noticed, which is always the problem with the White Sox and their fans. The paper ran an otherwise entertaining article about cute World Series curses. The Sox have no cute World Series curses, though they haven't won a Series since 1917. They appeared in the 1919 World Series, but we don't discuss that at my house.

 

And there was this passage:

 

"The Bridgeport neighborhood enveloping the ballpark, which sits next to a busy expressway, has gone through a slow renaissance. But there are no restaurants or bars nearby."

 

No restaurants or bars nearby?

 

"We're right here," he said. "What kind of respect is that?"

 

Jimbo's tavern sits at 3258 S. Princeton Ave., which in baseball distance is a Konerko, a Thomas and an Iguchi from the edge of Sox park. Or, perhaps a Kittle and a Luzinski away. But there are no cute curses to salt the beer.

 

The Red Sox had a cute Bambino. The Cubs have a cute goat. But the media's Cute World Series Curse Committee ignores the White Sox.

 

There was a cute curse possibility a couple of years ago, when Chicago mob boss turned informant Nick Calabrese told the FBI to start digging in a Sox parking lot. The FBI found at least one bone that may have belonged to "Bones" Albergo, a former Outfit enforcer. Unfortunately, Bones' bone wasn't cute curse material.

 

There is nothing cute about failure on the South Side. It is not a metaphor for anything. There is no poetry in it. Losing may be mythical and attractive in Boston, but not on 35th Street.

 

If you were a Sox fan last year driving home from a game that the Sox lost due to a lack of pitching, guts, fielding, hitting, thinking, discipline or desire to play baseball properly, then you wanted to listen to Dave Wills.

 

"Some broadcasters tell you that when the opponent hits a home run, you should act like your dog got hit by a car," Wills told me. "But with the White Sox, I didn't have to have a dog. That's how I felt. The year before last was probably as disappointed as I'd ever been. That team should have won. It hurt."

 

Wills grew up a White Sox fan in Oak Lawn. His wife, Liz, attended every Sox home game in 1977, as part of the Sox Supporters gang in left field. His daughter Michelle refused to call a grocery chain by its proper name. "She always called it Sox Foods," Wills said. "She never called it Cub Foods."

 

And now that the first-place Chicago White Sox are in first place, how does it feel to be in Tampa?

 

"I like it," Wills said. "If their pitching holds together, the White Sox could be there. I've said this for four straight years now: Minnesota doesn't impress me.

 

"And I'm looking forward to the six games the Rays and the White Sox play together," Wills said. "I sure hope the six games that the Rays beat them won't cost the Sox too much in their division race."

 

After years on the South Side, this is Wills' first year with the Devil Rays. With so many great announcers with the White Sox--the Hawk and D.J. on TV and John Rooney and Ed Farmer on radio, there was little room for Wills in the booth.

 

Now, he's the Devil Rays' regular voice on radio, where baseball can be magic. But I heard pangs of Sox longing in his voice.

 

You could also hear a longing for a Palermo's and a Nino's pizza, since he worked at both Oak Lawn pizza palaces as a kid, and now realizes that Florida doesn't understand pizza.

 

"I heard there's a Fat Boys in St. Pete owned by a Chicago guy, and there's a Chicago Deli in Clearwater, although I have not tried to get any prasky down here," Wills said. "How's Jimbo's?"

 

I promised to check, though I haven't been to Jimbo's for quite some time. I told Jimbo that reporters for The New York Times had been known to drink beer in his place, but Jimbo had a message for the editors.

 

"They should come on down," Jimbo said. "I'd like to prove to them that we're here. We exist. I mean, we really do."

[SnB]

Thank you soxtalk for doing all of my research for my paper.

(paper's on the identity of white sox fans)

[southsider2k5]

Thank you soxtalk for doing all of my research for my paper.

(paper's on the identity of white sox fans)

 

Try emailing Kass, he is one of the highest profile Sox fans you will ever find, not to mention the best writer in town since Mike Royko's passing. Heck you might even have your own column written about you