Power of Caring
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Inside Reinsdorf's brain

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Posted: Wednesday May 12, 1999 10:32 AM

I once beat up a kid like Jerry Reinsdorf. It was in third grade. Fourth, maybe. His name was Dieter, this little skinny punk who, for some reason, I just didn't like. It was the way he spewed -- always babbling about something, never really talking truth. One minute, Dieter had six friends in the mafia. The next minute, Dieter's dad was Wesley Walker. It got to a point where, one day, we strolled out to the playground and I pinned poor Dieter to the ground.

Ahhhh. Kodak moments.

Some 20 years later, I was standing on the Comiskey Park grass -- one of six or seven reporters gathered around Reinsdorf as the White Sox owner unleashed delusional platitudes -- thinking ... Dieter. Dieter. Dieter. Reinsdorf's pitch du jour, the one he offered with all the sincerity of a moonshined politician, is that winning isn't the only thing, it ain't anything.

"I feel like I figured something out," he said. "Fans, they don't care about winning. Well, they care some. But the most important thing is connecting with the players -- having guys they can identify with. That's why they've taken to this group."

Upon arrival at my lovely, $7,000-per-night Hotel 17 in downtown Chicago, I took the audiotape of Reinsdorf's comments and fed it to the Truth-o-Syzer. Here at Sports Illustrated, things are very high-tech. The Truth-o-Syzer is a machine supplied to each staffer that processes voices, analyzes the data, breaks down molecular structural syntaxed patterns of accelerated heart rate and returns with some really cool stuff. Anyway ...

Reinsdorf: "I feel like I figured something out."
Truth-o-Syzer: "Stupid fans will bow to my will and lick my toe cheese."

Reinsdorf: "Fans, they don't care about winning."
Truth-o-Syzer: "I can spend half coin, and these fools will still pay."

Reinsdorf: "Well, they care some."
Truth-o-Syzer: "Wayne Newton in tights. Wayne Newton in tights."
(Sometimes the Truth-o-Syzer needs a good kick)

Reinsdorf: "Well, they care some."
Truth-o-Syzer: "I'm rich. RICH! RICH! RICH!"

Reinsdorf: "But the most important thing is connecting with the players."
Truth-o-Syzer: "Like we've got any players."

Reinsdorf: "Having guys they can identify with."
Truth-o-Syzer: "On deck: the Elephant Man."

Reinsdorf: "That's why they've taken to this group."
Truth-o-Syzer: "We're drawing 3,000 a night, and 2,578 are my household servants."

Amazingly, the White Sox actually are a sort of not-bad team. A couple of young pitchers here ( John Snyder, Mike Sirotka, Bob Howry ), some decent position players there ( Mike Caruso, McKay Christensen, Paul Konerko ). The Big Hurt. Jerry Manuel , an even-tempered skipper who commands loyalty.

Reinsdorf's contention that he finally "figured something out," however, is pure rich-man trash. Don't buy it. Chicago's success is accidental. Most of the young guns were acquired as the team traded off its talent in a Marlins-esqe rummage sale. Not long ago, the roster included Thomas, Jack McDowell, Alex Fernandez, Wilson Alvarez, Roberto Hernandez, Robin Ventura, Albert Belle and a half-dozen or so other quality big league players. The White Sox won, but the White $ox didn't. So Reinsdorf sold out.

Reinsdorf: "I love the makeup of this team."

Truth-o-Syzer: "I'm loaded. I'm handsome. I'm livin' like Snoop Dee-Oh-Double-G. Word."

 

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