The metaphorical White Sox rebuild failed, but the literal rebuild may be exactly what Chicago needs

A new stadium may not be a bad thing

By now, we’ve all absorbed the news about vilified billionaire White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf’s plans for a new stadium. In these uneasy economic times, it seems absurd that a diamond-encrusted plutocrat would have the nerve to beg for another $1 billion of taxpayers’ money because he’s bored with Guaranteed Rate Field and wants a new toy.

Now that the Chicago Bears have reportedly passed on building their home at the second-rate tax-vortex money pit that is Arlington Park, they’ve announced their vision to create a new stadium just south of Soldier Field. Both the Bears and the White Sox owners were told to work together when they went downstate to ask for money for new stadiums, and while that sounds a little far-fetched, that may be exactly what’s happening.

Curt Bailey is president of Related Midwest, the developer who’s cranking out all those gorgeous renderings of a new White Sox ballpark on The 78. “Wouldn’t it be unbelievable for our city if you were to see two amazing facilities for these great sports teams built at once?” Bailey told the Chicago Sun-Times.

Maybe, Curt, but people dislike change. Ask any long-lived Bears fan if they want a dome at Bears games that will protect them from the elements, and they’ll stubbornly insist that they love missing the plays because their eyelids have frozen shut, and that going into cardiac arrest when the wind blows from the lake is a Chicago tradition.

I agree that Soldier Field as it currently stands is a magical place. It feels sturdy, looks cool as hell nestled up against the lakefront, sits on a campus peppered with internationally renowned museums, and has a setting emphasized by a soaring skyline and punctuated by a silver spaceship modern addition. But wow, a dome, and heat? Year-round events? My allegiance to history has left the chat.

Braving the elements isn’t as common a White Sox problem. It usually snows during at least one game in the first couple weeks in Chicago ... and that’s no problem, we have our White Sox winter hats and jackets ready to go. Hot and humid August days have fans lining up for the outfield shower with their frozen vodka lemonades, happy as clams.

Additionally, Guaranteed Rate Field is one of the nicer ballparks in the majors. At 33 years young, the stadium offers huge parking lots, direct public transit access, delicious food, pleasant bars, and it’s an overall lovely place to entertain yourself while you’re watching the White Sox lose.

Reinsdorf has made it clear that he prioritizes capital over victory, not only because he’s admitted as much; his actions make it obvious that he doesn’t care about building a winning team. Even if he did prioritize building a winning team, fulfilling Reinsdorf’s request for a billion tax dollars for a new ballpark would be an unearned reward, and only a guaranteed tidal wave of resulting tax revenue for our city can justify such a sizable handout. Predicting such a windfall is impossible.

Aside from the discussion of funding, what could the rollout of a new stadium at The 78 mean for the White Sox and the city as a whole?

Presently, The 78 is a lonely spot of land in the Near South Side neighborhood, abutting the Chicago River at Clark & Roosevelt. Chicago currently has 77 communities, so its name is an unofficial declaration that it should be the next official neighborhood. It’s exactly one mile by foot from the entrance of Soldier Field, an easy jaunt from the Museum Campus. It currently looks like this:

A former trainyard, the 62-acre land parcel was born as a landfill in the 1920s. Its railways were demolished in the 1970s, and since then, it’s remained untouched and full of potential.

Developing a section of this enormous empty lot into a dynamic sports complex would be a further improvement for the Near South Side neighborhood, and for the city as a whole (if we’re not picking up the tab). If Alderman Jason Ervin gets voted out of his 28th Ward position (unlikely) before a development plan is set in stone, my prediction for this space is grim.

I’m kidding, of course. Spirit Halloween stores only pop up in long-forgotten and doomed vacant spaces. Plans for The 78 are quite impressive, and include mixed office and retail buildings, residential high rises, a river walk, and a $1.2 billion University of Illinois research center that’s slated to be anchored in the new Innovation District. The 100 feet of riverfront has plans to be transformed into a beautiful green space, with parks, a Chicago Water Taxi stop, and walking paths. It’s tough not to get excited after taking a look at the renderings.

But if the home of the White Sox since 1910 becomes a vacant spot, what will that mean for the Bridgeport and Armour Square neighborhoods? With more than a century of White Sox traffic by both locals and tourists alike, would small businesses be at risk?

Some residents say the current setup of Guaranteed Rate Field doesn’t bring a ton of revenue to the surrounding businesses in the first place, and there are plenty of locals that will keep their businesses running without it. The ballpark isn’t exactly set up to be integrated into the surrounding neighborhood, and the one thing its clear borders do bring annoys the shit out of residents — congested traffic backed up to and from the Dan Ryan.

Still, other Bridgeporters and ArmSquarians believe the neighborhood will suffer some small business casualties if the White Sox abandon Guaranteed Rate Field for greener pastures.

Part of the appeal of what The 78 has to offer is its potential for becoming a sprawling neighborhood complex. Dreams of the abandoned Armour Field complex have been tattooed into the imaginations of fans and residents for years. A stadium that offers more than just a place to watch games and a couple of concerts a year would be a definite improvement for any South Side neighborhood, but the trend of Southwest Side neighborhoods’ underfunding would continue with this move.

My decade anniversary of being a North Sider recently passed. I never thought I’d love a North Side neighborhood as much as I love my spot on the beach, in a high rise predominantly inhabited by lively geriatrics who’ve become close friends, and more White Sox fans than Cubs (a surprising demographic, since we’re a stone’s throw from Wrigley Field). I grew up in the Gage Park and West Lawn neighborhoods, and while both have pros and cons, it’s obvious that there’s not as much money poured into the South Side, a point I’ve brought up in past articles. Further divesting from Armour Square and Bridgeport may create a tighter chokehold on the resources and funding being funneled to the surrounding areas, and the likelihood of a random magnate investing in the property is low. Whispers of Major League Soccer’s Chicago Fire moving to Guaranteed Rate Field are wishful and logical, but unconfirmed.

As much as I hate to admit this (and promised my dad I wouldn’t ever write about this, or if I did, to leave him out of it and pretend he didn’t like it), I was charmed when visiting the Christkindl Market at Wrigley Field this year with my family. If you hooked up a windmill-like energy generator to my grandpa’s long-deceased corpse right now, you’d be able to power your home for the entire season, as he’s surely spinning in its South Side grave. As much as I can’t stand the Cubs, the majority of people who go to their games (notice I didn’t call them “fans,” because actual Cubs fans can talk baseball), and the inebriated asshats who puke on your car on Clark Street over the weekend, I love what they’ve done to make Wrigley a community space. As a prerequisite for our evening, I required all of us to wear White Sox winter hats for our visit, and we weren’t the only ones wearing them. There are a staggering amount of White Sox fans on the North Side and in Wrigleyville, and I’ve seen way more White Sox hats, at least an 80/20 ratio, in my decade of living here.

If there are so many White Sox fans, why don’t they go to games? There are many answers to this question, the most obvious being that they’re a frustrating, losing team with shitty management. Bridgeport and Armour Square are lovely neighborhoods, but during the offseason, they don’t attract outsiders, so it’s not a place that visitors think to call on unless they’re attending a game.

Now imagine a White Sox experience that gave you more reasons than a game to visit the area. Imagine taking a Chicago Water Taxi from Chinatown, or River North, to get to the game, for a farmer’s market, a tiny concert, or community event next to the river. As much as we’d like to imagine the current location of Guaranteed Rate Field exhibiting more of a community feel, it’s never, ever going to happen in that location. They had the chance and passed on the opportunity. Taking Jerry Reinsdorf tax grifting out of the equation, the concept of this new stadium selfishly excites me.

Now imagine a neighborhood bereft of the White Sox. The home plate cement square that once marked the spot of Old Comiskey is covered by a condominium complex. Maybe there’s a plaque memorializing the spot of THE CATCH, or Paulie’s World Series granny, but all of our memorial bricks are long gone. Maybe they used those bricks typefaced with our names to pave the new riverwalk, or in a complex inside the stadium. Maybe the 2005 monument is now sitting at the river’s dock, greeting those who travel by water taxi.

Many of us have mixed feelings about the possibility of the move, but if it happens independently of a Reinsdorf tax gift, I’ll be happy. Surely the Illinois Sports Facilities Authority, owners of Guaranteed Rate Field, will have at least one option for lease.