Field of Dreams Part II: Comiskey Park

Inside Field of Dreams

COMISKEY PARK -- THE GAME
Sunday, July 1, 1990

"Nine blocks away? Nine blocks away? Why do you park so far away from the stadium? We could have parked in the lot next door to the stadium?" I griped at my father as we started our hike to Comiskey Park. I didn't mind the walk, it's just that we were early today where we easily could have parked close to the ball park.

"What? And pay $5.00. I can park here at the late Mayor Daly's house on the street and save $5.00. On top of that, I get Daly's policeman to watch my car as he's protecting Daly's House." He justified his answer.

What would you expect from a guy who drives three miles out of his way just to keep from throwing a dime into the toll booth. But, he was right about one thing, he would get security over his car that he couldn't get at the lot next to the ball park. Comiskey wasn't situated in what you would call the best neighborhood.

It's Sunday, July 1, 1990, the 80th birthday of Comiskey Park. Also, it would be the last birthday the old stadium would be celebrating, because right across 35th Street was a towering resemblance of a 21st century size ball park that would adopt the Comiskey Park name.

Not realizing this would be the last journey my father, my brother (14 years my younger), and my 6 year-old daughter would take with me to the old stadium, we stood patiently outside while the crowd started to gather, waiting for the gates to open. The air kind of was different that day, for the crowd sensed an eeriness as the concrete beams for the new Comiskey proudly casted its shadow over its predecessor. As the crowd grew larger, a mysterious effect seemed to grow with anticipation of what was about to happen inside Old Comiskey Park.

It was taking longer to enter the park this particular day since the White Sox were giving each child a souvenir bat to help Old Comiskey Park commemorate it's last birthday. However, these bats were not just some every day ordinary bat...It was a black bat...Not just any black bat...It was a spittin' replica of "Black Betsy", the famous bat used by the hitting legend "Shoeless Joe" Jackson.

We made our way to the right field lower grandstand. Over the years, this was one seat I never watched a ball game from. As game time edged closer, I heard dad tell my daughter about some of the great ball players that used to play here and what it was like when he came to the park as a 6 year-old boy.

The game started and it was going to be a pitcher's contest from the get go. Scoreless inning after scoreless inning. I was hoping that the White Sox would hit a home run in anticipation of the smile it would bring to my daughters face as the fireworks would go off from the centerfield scoreboard.

As the game wore on, the fans grew restless. Then it started...Of course...What happens when you cross a legendary hero's bat with the park's birthday named after the "Old Roman" Charles Comiskey? The negative and positive primal forces of nature were starting to cross paths. The seventh, eighth, and ninth innings proved to provide three of the best innings the old park ever witnessed over the last eighty years.

New York Yankee pitcher, Andy Hawkins was pitching the game of his life. He had a no-hitter going into the bottom of seventh inning when almost miracuously, the Yankee outfielders started dropping easy routine fly balls hit to them. The crowd sensed something unexplainable was happening. The day's events turned out to be one of the most bizarre games in major league history. Andy Hawkins pitched his no-hitter for nine innings, but lost the game 4-0.

Could the ghost of "Shoeless Joe" and the other seven players removed from the game of baseball have had a mysterious encounter with the "Old Roman" and Comiskey Park once again?

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