The start of Cactus League play in Arizona this weekend reminds us the daily grind of the baseball season is underway and opening day is on deck.
Every new year brings the promise of greatness, but the truth is most seasons are somewhat forgettable unless you’re fortunate enough to follow a team that’s almost always in contention.
For Chicago White Sox fans of any generation, playoff memories have been few and far between. Since 1960, the seasons that have ended in the postseason can be counted on two hands with fingers to spare: 1983, 1993, 2000, 2005, 2008, 2020 and 2021. One the last 106 years, the only season with even one postseason series win, occurred in the championship season of ‘05.
But there have been a few non-playoff teams that live on in our memories, and one of the most special years was in 1990, the final season of old Comiskey Park. That was the season the Sox hung with the mighty Oakland A’s in the American League West, winning 94 games but still finishing nine games back.
Thanks to Matt Flesch, a Sox die-hard with some time on his hands during the pandemic, fans will be treated to a nostalgic look at the 1990 season in “Last Comiskey,” a three-part documentary airing in March on YouTube.
Flesch, who works in communications for a biotechnology company and has no film background, compiled video from fans’ videotapes of televised games, home movies at old Comiskey and other sources, combining it with Zoom interviews of former Sox players, employees, vendors, media members and others who ventured out to Comiskey that season.
He began the project in 2020 during the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic, hoping to create a 10-15 minute video for fun. Instead, he found several 1990 Sox players willing to talk about the season, including stars Lance Johnson, Ozzie Guillen, Jack McDowell and Bobby Thigpen.
“I don’t know if something like this could’ve happened pre-COVID, with me, as a fan, being able to get in touch with players on Zoom,” Flesch said.
Flesch didn’t ask for cooperation from the Sox and doesn’t know how they’ll react, even though the organization should embrace what amounts to a love letter to that team and its beloved ballpark. Because it’s on YouTube, anyone can access the documentary for free. Flesch doesn’t expect to make money off the project, calling it a “labor of love.”
“It’s just something I wanted to get out there,” he said. “It’s a hobby. Maybe it will turn into something else down the road with all these connections I’ve made, but for right now it’s just a nonprofit endeavor. I was passionate about doing it and wanted to see if I could make it happen.”
It’s a must-see for any Sox fan, from baby boomers who remember what it was like to millennials who never got to experience the old park.
I was part of the Tribune’s coverage of the 1990 team, so the documentary brought back some fond memories, including the summer showdown with the A’s, the brawl and Carlton Fisk’s record-breaking home run during a doubleheader in Texas, the 7½ -hour rain delay at Comiskey, Thigpen breaking the all-time saves mark, the first “Turn Back the Clock” day, the late-season call-ups of top prospects Frank Thomas and Alex Fernandez and, of course, the final game at the historic park.
Flesch also devotes segments to peripheral characters such as the Comiskey Park vendors, organist Nancy Faust and “Chicken Willie” Thompson, the Sox’s raucous clubhouse manager and cook. Thompson loved his Sox but was also a realist. Whenever I said “Chicken, this looks like the year,” he’d roll his eyes and mutter an expletive. But the players loved him, and Fisk and Thomas thanked him during their Hall of Fame speeches.
“I didn’t really know much about Chicken Willie going into this, but a few guys brought him up and then that started to be how I’d start all my interviews, asking about him,” Flesch said. “They all had awesome stories about this iconic legend cooking comfort food in the clubhouse.”
Jeff Torborg’s gritty 1990 Sox team was in stark contrast to the haughty A’s, who were led by manager Tony La Russa and starred Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire, both of whom would later admit to using performance-enhancing drugs.
“I just remember getting out there and going, ‘Good God, these guys are huge,’” Sox reliever Scott Radinsky recalls in the film. “The smallest guy on the (A’s) was bigger than the biggest guy on our team.”
It was a David-versus-Goliath rivalry in which Goliath won, but not without the Sox leaving some battle scars. The buzz at Comiskey for that first big showdown was palpable.
“Part of what I wanted to capture was the feeling of being at one of those old parks and a team that didn’t center around homers and strikeouts,” Flesch said. “It had strategy, speed, bunting. … I wanted to capture just how exciting it was to attend those games and be a part of that.”
Some things from the 1990 season were left unexplored, including the end of McCuddy’s Tavern and Andy the Clown, the unofficial mascot whom Sox management informed would be unwelcome at the new ballpark. But Flesch includes segments on the 1977 “South Side Hit Men,” along with the Dick Allen era, to give context to the ‘90 Sox.
I’ve only seen Part I, but what the documentary does best is remind fans of a time when the ballpark was part of their lives, not just a place where the Sox played games.
“I’m an old-school baseball person,” Flesch said. “I don’t hate the new park. It’s comfortable. But it’s important to look at these old parks like Comskey and what made them special.
“As a fan, you felt like you were part of the action. In old Comiskey’s upper deck, you were on top of the field. There weren’t all these levels of skyboxes in between.”
Flesch believes if Comiskey were preserved it would be considered a landmark rivaling Wrigley Field in popularity. I’ve debated Ventura, Harold Baines and other former Sox players from the 1990s as to whether Comiskey could’ve been renovated like Wrigley. They’ve all told me it was unsalvageable, that players needed the modern amenities to compete. Maybe, but the Sox have had only six playoff teams and one title in 32 years of Guaranteed Rate Field, so I’m not sure that argument flies.
Part I of “Last Comiskey” posts at 8 p.m. Thursday, with the final two episodes scheduled for March 9 and 16. Grab some popcorn, get out the laptop, sit back in your comfy chair and click on the browser.
“Last Comiskey” is a flashback you won’t regret experiencing.
