The White Sox are coming off the losingest season in major league history, and while they expect to be better in 2025, they certainly can't sell a team that's pushing its resources toward contention. Their first SoxFest since the COVID-19 pandemic has been moved to a venue whose size reflects the diminished expectations and interest, and as many cheers as emcee Gene Honda drew in declaring this event at the Ramova Theatre a tribute to Bridgeport, it's a necessary gesture of repair after so much of the franchise's pursuits for a new stadium have left the neighborhood feeling jilted.
Even with a new manager to introduce, the state of the White Sox present only offers the marketing department the options of hyping the cadre of prospects in attendance, and/or reveling in the nostalgia of the 20th anniversary of the greatest accomplishment in the franchise's history.
It's a moment in team history rife with cynicism from both fans and media, but what Friday night's opening of SoxFest countered with is: How cynical can you truly be about Mark Buehrle?
Probably not much, especially after he bought a round of drinks for all the fans in attendance.
"I mean, I like to have an adult beverage," said Buehrle, famously a beer enjoyer. "So I figure they can partake in it too."
Initially, it was a small mystery how and why a panel dedicated to the World Series champion 2005 White Sox combined the most likely candidates to be spotted at the ballpark on a random Saturday (José Contreras, Freddy Garcia, Harold Baines) and one of the most reclusive members of that team in Buehrle.
The question was emphatically answered by the announcement that a statue of Buehrle will be unveiled on July 11, headlining a larger celebration of the 2005 team. An accompanying video of Buehrle getting into full uniform and throwing off a mound to model his form and image for the sculptor threw some cold water on the notion that his statue might depict him tarp sliding, or homering off Braden Looper in Milwaukee, but there are six months left to dream.
"Middle of the summer [last year] I was on my lawn mower cutting grass and I look down it’s beeping on my butt, I look down and it’s Jerry [Reinsdorf] and I’m like, shit, do I really not take this call right now?" Buehrle recalled of how he's learned the news.
As ably as Buehrle received the adulation from the fans in attendance, who blew away the ovation for any current Sox player with their cheers for him, he also described it as overwhelming. As warm and playful as he was with assembled media, he is the picture of contentment in a retirement that keeps him far away from the sport he dedicated his youth toward, and achieved generational wealth playing. Even a team ambassadorship that would see him attending a handful of White Sox games per year and knocking out some autograph sessions is somewhat unimaginable. And so it scans that Buehrle did indeed let the White Sox chairman go to voicemail, and finished his mowing before he called Reinsdorf back and got this process rolling
"Insane, unbelievable, kind of [at a] loss for words," Buehrle said of his reaction to the honor. "They retired my number, it’s an incredible honor. To put a statue up of me out there, forever ... I guess the number could be unretired and get taken out and put it back into play. But the statue, unless someone tears it down or does something to it, it’s always going to be there. I really don’t have words for it, but it’s an amazing feeling."
Buehrle's mention of his number already being retired in 2017 at least nods to how Reinsdorf's other franchise is transparently doubling up on nostalgia bait for the fan base by having a night dedicated to Derrick Rose and a jersey retirement ceremony for him on back-to-back years. But even if his production in a White Sox uniform did not already compare favorably to the likes of Billy Pierce, Nellie Fox, Minnie Miñoso and Carlton Fisk, all of whom are already immortalized on the Rate Field concourse, Buehrle was the best player (he referenced WAR in his comments to the media, so we'll take it as his blessing to use it here) on a World Series-winning team.
The subsequent two decades have only revealed that triumph to be an even more singular moment in franchise history. And in keeping with the tradition of the White Sox celebrating their own history because they cannot count on it being acknowledged otherwise, it's a tacit endorsement and advertisement of Buehrle's improbable Hall of Fame case, which has a chance to push its way to the forefront with a weak incoming class next year.
"I can’t tell you exactly what the numbers are compared to [Andy] Pettitte or compared to [CC] Sabathia, but I know some guys who are not in the Hall of Fame who have better numbers than I do," Buehrle said. "I’m literally just honored to be on the ballot this many years. Just getting my name on the first, I was like, ‘Man, if I can just stay on for another year.' And now we are going into Year 6. I mean, literally giving me goosebumps. It’s insane."
And soon after Buehrle was done expressing genuine awe at the plaudits his career had earned, he was back on a flight to Missouri Friday, and back toward the private and quiet existence he made it clear he prefers. The game has evolved in such a way that the yeoman nature of his production that once was simply part of his charm now can't be replicated by the most elite arms in the sport.
As a starting pitcher who got to see himself become one of the last of his kind over the course of his playing career, Buehrle -- who was both teammates with Baines and also pitched into The Statcast Era -- is a relevant voice on the sport's transformation. A.J. Pierzynski would probably give him a segment for a weekly rant on Foul Territory if Buehrle wanted it, but the left-hander seems fond of how cleanly he exited the sport when he had no more left to give.
"It’s just the evolution of baseball, I guess," said Buehrle, who made sure to offer his respect for how the speed of the modern game jumps out at him every time he makes it out to the ballpark, before offering his most obvious gripe. "[Limits on] throwing over to first is the dumbest rule ever invented."
A surprising amount of time in the State of the White Sox panel with Chris Getz and Will Venable was dedicated to the development of Garrett Crochet, who plays for another team now, which coincidentally lined up with the lower bowl seating area thinning out. And so the White Sox's inability to produce more Buehrles -- productive franchise mainstays who can be embraced as part of the team identity for years on end, more so than 200-inning starters -- is the more pressing developmental crisis around these parts. Celebrating Buehrle is no substitute for a suitable product on the field, but it at least reminds what the Sox are supposed to be building toward, and what it's supposed to look and feel like.
Prior to Buehrle, the surprise news announcement for SoxFest seemed to be Drew Thorpe revealing that he received a cortisone shot in his surgically repaired throwing elbow earlier in the day. Surgery for a bone spur in Thorpe's elbow ended his 2024 season on a sour note, as did getting shelled in his last two outings while the pain mounted.
Thorpe said he was continuing to feel discomfort in the back of his elbow/tricep area as he began ramping up for spring, and is now hoping to resume throwing next week.
"If everything goes well, I should be pushing for being ready by opening weekend," said Thorpe, before acknowledging that mapping out his first start of the season months from now, before he can even assess the effectiveness of the cortisone shot, is a little premature.
It's easy enough to rattle off a five-man opening day Sox rotation without Thorpe (Martín Pérez, Jonathan Cannon, Davis Martin, Bryse Wilson, Sean Burke), but a healthy Thorpe accessing new levels of performance is a key potential source of improvement from 2024.
