CHICAGO, SEPTEMBER 27, 2002 — Your humble correspondent sends New Englanders hearty greetings from the Windy City, home of da Bears, da Bulls, and the most long-suffering baseball fans in the US of A. Even though Frank Sinatra’s kind of town has entered each season with double the odds of reaching the post-season, this city, like Boston, has been waiting since World War I for either of the Chicago ball teams to hoist a championship banner. The most recent pennant was clinched by the White Sox, in 1959, and the closest either team has come to reaching the Fall Classic was the Cubs’ deciding-game loss to San Diego in the 1984 NLCS — a game-five breakdown that came after Chicago had won the first two games at Wrigley.

On my first afternoon in the city, I headed over to the South Side of town, where the Sox play in 11-year-old Comiskey Park. The locals apparently never refer to it as Comiskey, but rather as Sox Park. The original Comiskey opened in 1910, but was replaced by the new version back in 1991, right across the street from the old site.

Sox Park is not located in the best part of town, and there have reportedly been numerous incidents that would dissuade even the most passionate baseball fan from venturing into the neighborhood. And unlike Wrigley, which is centrally located in a residential neighborhood and surrounded by a host of watering holes, Comiskey is perched right off a main highway, with few nearby restaurants or sports bars to speak of, a situation that most likely is a result of the safety issues in the area itself.

The old Comiskey has always been the black-sheep stadium of the city, and the team’s owners had to do something to get people to stop on by, so they built a new one to compete with the charm and draw of crosstown Wrigley Field, and while the new Comiskey is impressive in its own right, it does not have nearly the character or beauty of Camden Yards in Baltimore nor Jacobs Field in Cleveland. From outside the stadium, the glorious Chicago skyline is visible, but for some reason the structure was built with the open end facing away from the city, so there is no view of Chicago for the fans watching the game. Go figure.

When one walks into Sox Park, as I did on a beautiful Thursday afternoon, one still gets that wide-eyed rush that you get from entering a ballpark you are seeing for the first time. But one grows accustomed to the surroundings, that feeling of wonder gradually dissipates. The interior is nearly all blue — blue seats, blue walls, blue scoreboard — but the joint's prevalent theme is testament to the history of the team itself. Nearly every concession stand throughout the concourse has some relevance to the ghosts of White Sox past: The Go-Go Sox Grill, Minnie Minosos’s All-star Stand, La Russa’s Pizza, Early Wynn’s Dog & Polish, Eddie Collins’s Brats & Sausage, Luzinski’s Rooftop Dogs, etc. On the back wall behind the bleachers are life-size caricatures of former Sox greats, and the flags of the (few) Pale Hose championship teams flutter on flagpoles — with plenty of room for more — to the left (world champs in 1906 and 1917) and right (pennant-winners in 1919 and 1959) of the gargantuan scoreboard in straightaway center field. Along the facing around the park are painted pennants of the Sox’ retired numbers, which include Luis Aparicio, Steve Lyons (!), and Pudge Fisk.

The top-priced tickets are the $31 "VIP" seats that extend from first base to third base; otherwise, prices range from the $12 upper-deck seats (which were unavailable on the day I was there and were in fact covered with tarp!) to $18 bleacher seats and the $26 lower-deck boxes and waiter-service-enhanced club seats. At the day game I attended, one could have purchased the cheapest-priced seat available and then without a problem moved to a seat in the first five rows behind home plate . A less-than-sellout 12,000-plus fans were on hand for the White Sox’ 2002 home finale, and it was a laid-back crowd to say the least. In fact, when one early foul ball was hit straight back, it rebounded off the facing, bounced untouched amidst a group of uninterested fans behind home plate, and was snagged by a patron who didn’t even have to stand up from his first-row seat. Whereas at Fenway, where the attainment of a foul ball often involves guerrilla tactics and occasional bloodshed, little effort was made by the Sox Park faithful when a stray ball found its way into the stands.

There are plenty of concessions opportunities available to the fans, with a variety of culinary options. Prices are a little more reasonable than at Fenway, although Comiskey sponsors more brand loyalty, as Pepsi ($3) and Miller ($4.50 for a 16-ounce cup of suds) products were the predominant beverage choices, although, surprisingly, one could also buy a $5 mini-bottle of Sutter Home wine, "vodka lemonade," or even a Jose Cuervo frozen strawberry margarita. Otherwise, one could purchase $6 individual pizzas, $4.75 steak pitas, $3.25 bags of peanuts, $3.75 kosher hot dogs, or $4 bratwursts or sausages. Also odd was the presence of a Dunkin’ Donuts concession stand, where one could purchase $1 donuts and the other usual bakery fare. Roving concessionaires in the stands sold the aforementioned dogs, margaritas, and cans of beer, along with "red ropes" (licorice strings), boxes of Cracker Jack, and 50-50 raffle opportunities, yet no souvenirs.

Comiskey is set up so that fans can walk the entire perimeter of the stadium and not miss anything — a radio play-by-play of the game is broadcast throughout the concourse, and small TVs show the game-in-progress at each stand. A strange but welcome sight to anyone familiar with Fenway Park is the presence of janitorial staff in the concourse, waiting to swoop in and clean up any debris that might be dropped by a passing patron. In addition, there were actually recycle bins for empty cups. While I am no greenie, I have always considered the mountain of empty (and potentially recyclable) beer and soda cups generated during every Fenway game, and have always wondered why an effort couldn’t be made to collect the empties and re-use them. Think of the money Red Sox ownership could be saving right there. The White Sox boast that it is the number-one recycling franchise in the majors, and to encourage participation, late in the ballgame a scoreboard message encourages fans to bring their cups to the bins or to a "guest service representative," and even offered patrons a free team novelty gift if they brought 25 empty cups to an appointed booth.

With a team struggling for any kind of success on the field, the White Sox marketing department has worked hard to produce an interactive experience for the fans who do attend games, and therefore the scoreboards are constantly bombarding the gathered masses with commercials, information, and fan-participation games. Included in the latter category on the day I was there were "The Amazing Hat Game," a three-card-monty-styled scoreboard game where three Sox hats were juggled around, and the fans had to guess under which hat a baseball resided; an audience auction for a Keith Foulke game-worn jersey (do I have any bidders?); a guess-the-attendance quiz; a "boat race" among three different-colored vessels, where fans rooted on their favorite color; and for the actual baseball fans in the joint, plenty of season-long and historical White Sox team highlights. Also, at different times the scoreboard would show a closed-circuit view of the concourse to show fans how short the concession lines were, and offered up a late-game traffic report, which updated the arteries out of the stadium while showing a video of TV's Batman and Robin leaving the Batcave on their way to Gotham City. Finally, there were numerous birthday wishes and between-inning commercials that, for better or worse, kept fans’ eyes glued to the scoreboard at the expense of the "action" on the field.

Action was limited, as both teams’ coaching staffs sent out second-level players for this game, which was the night after Boston was mathematically eliminated from post-season play. As happened a couple of weeks ago in a white-flag surrender game at Fenway, fans of both teams were treated to a bunch of scrubinskis and no-names along with regular starters Trot Nixon and Brian Daubach for the Sox of Red, and only Frank Thomas and Magglio Ordonez for the Sox of White. The Red Sox seemed like a team that couldn’t wait to get the game over with and get out of town, often first-pitch swinging and ultimately getting shut down on three hits through seven-plus innings by some guy named Dan Wright. In the ninth, trailing by only a run, Boston finally made a concerted effort to win, throwing out pinch-hitters Johnny Damon, Cliff Floyd, Nomar Garciaparra, and potentially Manny Ramirez (on-deck when the game ended), but a game-winning rally was not to be, and in a lightning-quick 2:11, the game and the Red Sox’ final road series were history.

Notably, there was plenty of support for the home team, and not even a hint of anger at the White Sox’ disappointing season (they were predicted to be a playoff team, but instead are heading to Minnesota for the regular-season finale with an 81-78 overall record and a spot more than 10 games behind the Twins in the AL Central). Even Frank Thomas, who holds nearly every franchise record but may very well have played his final game in Chicago, got warm ovations at each at-bat despite his .251 average and sub-par offensive numbers.

I was warned ahead of time that I would be disappointed with Comiskey, er, Sox Park, but I had an enjoyable baseball experience there, which made me yearn for the modern amenities and many concession opportunities that exist in these modern ballparks. No, Comiskey does not have nearly the character of Fenway or Wrigley, but they have obviously gone to great lengths to make patrons comfortable. The longest rows are 10 seats long, for instance, and while that is a minor issue, try getting stuck in seats 14 and 15 of a 29-seat row at Fenway. Cup holders. Fabric seats. Radio play-by-play in the concession areas and rest rooms. Reasonable ticket and concession prices.

Nope, Comiskey wasn’t such a bad place at all, though I’ll probably look back at the experience differently after my first visit to Wrigley Field over the weekend. In the meantime, though, I’ll have fond memories of my first visit to Sox Park, a venue which will host next year’s Major League All-Star Game.

What it supposedly comes down to is the stuff that goes on on the field, not in the stands. But if you’re going to be stuck watching a mediocre team, it’s nice to know that management cares about your creature comforts and not fleecing you at every turn.

And while the broad-daylight fireworks that went off at the conclusion of the White Sox’ 3-2 victory seemed a bit inappropriate given the time and place, the fact is that Red Sox fans in 2002 would have been delighted to see a bit more consideration given to their overall (and future) ballpark experience, and a lot more fireworks out of the team itself all year long.

Sporting Eye runs Mondays and Fridays on BostonPhoenix.com, and Christopher Young can be reached at cyoung[a]phx.com