Minutes before Mark Buehrle’s statue dedication ceremony Friday in the right field concourse at White Sox Park, a ballpark employee with a cart containing four kegs of beer tried to make his way through the gridlocked crowd awaiting the unveiling.
He stopped when he reached an area reserved for members of the 2005 team, failing to recognize anyone as he shouted for everyone to move aside. That’s when Cliff Politte, a reliever on the ’05 champions, offered some instructions.
“Just bring those out back and load ’em onto my truck,” Politte told the confused worker.
Twenty years later, the party really hasn’t stopped for the ’05 Sox.
The years between reunions are just much-needed interludes, a chance to embellish the legends of a team that accomplished things we’ll probably never see again — like an 11-1 postseason run, with four consecutive complete game wins in a playoff series.
“It’s such a great feeling to know that we’ve won and can come back and do this,” third baseman Joe Crede said. “Because without this, I’d probably never see these guys again. We never missed a beat. Everybody is hitting on you and doing everything we used to do. I love it. It makes you want to come back all the time and celebrate this.”
This weekend on the South Side was many things — a tribute to Buehrle, a designated Irish wake for closer Bobby Jenks, a remembrance of times when the world was a better place, and a brief respite for Sox fans from Year Three of the perpetual rebuild.
Baseball, however, was not the main topic when the players congregated Friday for the first time in many years.
“Most of the conversations are all about family,” outfielder Jermaine Dye said. “We’ve seen the kids here, all grown up… It’s just good to talk about family.”
The White Sox family, like one you might recognize, is large, boisterous and a little bit dysfunctional. It’s headed by Chairman Jerry Reinsdorf, of course, but the real patriarch of the ’05 family is Ozzie Guillén — once deemed too crazy to manage, until he was surrounded by a team that fit his personality like a comfy pair of shoes.
Catcher A.J. Pierzynski said the Sox need to give Guillén his own statue, while Guillén said he’d prefer to have his No. 13 retired so his young grandkids could “see who grandpa was.”
Did the ’05 Sox make Guillén a genius that year? Or did his nonconformist approach mold them into a championship club? Could the Sox have won with another manager at the helm?
“Good question,” Crede said. “With the mix of guys we had, and Ozzie being able to mediate between everyone … If someone had a problem, Ozzie was always the mediator. He kept everything cool, calm and collected and really took the pressure off the players, whether it was something he said in the media or whatever. If we were struggling he’d try and direct the attention away from the team and put it on him.”
The attention Friday, however, was squarely on Buehrle as he waited impatiently with his wife, Jamie, and two children, Brooklyn and Braden, for the statue unveiling. He looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else on earth, preferably somewhere with dirt under his feet.
“I hate it, I was literally as nervous as could be all day today,” Buehrle said afterward. “Got three hours of sleep last night. Couldn’t eat all day. Got sick to my stomach. This stuff — all these cameras and mics and people … this is not my comfort zone. I was definitely uncomfortable out there.”
Guillén was the last of the ’05 Sox to arrive, due to his pregame TV duties for Chicago Sports Network. He sat in a row next to Harold Baines, with Reinsdorf on the other side, tears and sweat running down the side of his face as Buehrle spoke.
When Buehrle thanked Reinsdorf, one fan on the concourse shouted “boo,” but was quickly shut down by another.
“Not today,” the fan told the heckler.
It was a day to celebrate a pitcher, not to relitigate the recent past. Plenty of time for that the rest of the season.
Buehrle, the reluctant honoree, told Reinsdorf “no more” after the ceremony.
“The (jersey) retirement speech, and now this speech,” Buehrle said. “No more speeches. You got them all out of the way. I’m not (downplaying) how much of an honor it is for me and my family. To see that being out there forever, I can’t wrap my head around it. I can’t think of the right words to say to show my gratitude and thankfulness for this honor. It’s amazing.”
After the players took selfies together at the statue, Reinsdorf was asked to join in a team photo. Afterward, he was ushered out by security to a nearby service elevator so he could return to his suite without interacting with many Sox fans.
Many of the same people from ’05 still work at the ballpark, including ushers, security, front office employees, vendors and the grounds crew. They’re also part of the extended Sox family, and Reinsdorf’s well-known loyalty, considered a fault by most fans, is a blessing to them.
Still, not everyone from the ’05 Sox was invited. And notably absent was general manager Ken Williams, the architect of the ’05 team who became vice president and was fired in 2023 along with GM Rick Hahn. A Sox spokesperson said Williams was out of town, missing the celebration of a championship he helped make possible.
“Look, I wish every person that had anything to do with (’05) was here,” Pierzynski said. “Listen, Kenny was complex. As I’ve gotten older and Kenny has gotten older, we’ve actually become better friends. Kenny and I could get a little hotheaded at times and go after each other a little bit. But at the end of the day we could hug and cry and move on.
“I understand why Kenny is not here. He was let go and all that. But he was a huge part of this organization. He was the reason I was here — well, him and ‘Hawk’ (Ken Harrelson), so I owe a lot to Kenny. He’s doing well, and I wish he was here. He deserves more respect. Theo (Epstein) gets all the respect (for the Cubs’ 2016 championship), and Kenny did it a lot earlier here.”
The one who wanted to be there most was probably Jenks, who died on July 4 after a battle with cancer. Pitcher Jon Garland wore a Jenks jersey to the weekend’s events, and everyone had a story to tell.
“So sad,” Baines said. “I remember when he first came up. He was such a happy-go-lucky guy, but once he got on the mound he was very dangerous.”
Pierzynski said Jenks’ absence left a hole in the celebration, but Guillén said Jenks was still alive in their hearts, and suggested his passing would teach his old friends to “love each other the way we should love each other.”
Reunions are a handy marketing tool for teams, especially ones like the Sox that haven’t had much to celebrate since. A crowd of a little more than 2,800 fans was actually inside the ballpark for the first game of the split doubleheader with Cleveland, making it look like a low-level, minor-league game.
Much bigger crowds turned out Friday night and Saturday to remember a team that shared their work ethic, camaraderie and love of the game.
“There is definitely a culture of hard work and grittiness,” reliever Neal Cotts said of the shared traits between the Sox and their fan base. “‘Just go out there and get your job done.’ That’s the mentality I took from Ozzie. The effort level has to be there daily, and then we’ll (live with) the results.”
But Sox fans also expect the team to win more than once every generation. Tadahito Iguchi, the second baseman for the ’05 team who works now as a broadcaster for NHK TV in Japan, said Sox fans should realize patience is a virtue.
“It took 88 years for us to win,” he said through an interpreter. “Hopefully good times are coming. It might take some time, but I really believe in the club to build a winner.”
One member of the ’05 team who declined to be named wasn’t quite as optimistic, pointing to the plethora of former Kansas City Royals employees currently in decision-making positions with the Sox.
“And what have they done lately?” he said, referring to the Royals’ struggles since their 2015 championship.
No one said the ’05 team wasn’t an opinionated bunch.
Future aside, Saturday’s ceremony honoring the 20th anniversary of the ’05 champs was a chance for everyone to take one more bow.
After speeches by Dye, Geoff Blum and Guillén, Buehrle came up to the podium and gave his old manager the hook, saying “no one understands you.” He then pulled out some hidden ice-cold beers for everyone and they all gave one more toast for Jenks. Guillén and several players fought off tears as they held up their beers and said, “Bobby Forever.”
They remained the same as ever, though Buehrle joked they were older, fatter and grayer. The last time he spoke to many of them, he guessed, was 10-12 years ago. No matter.
“It was like we didn’t skip a beat,” Buehrle said. “Just getting on each other, wearing each other out, making fun of each other. When you go to battle and win a World Series with a team, you’ve got a special bond with those guys.”
Crede remembered playing for the Sox in 2003 when the team welcomed back the 1983 “Winning Ugly” divisional champs on its 20th anniversary season. He recalled thinking: “In 20 years, am I going to look like that?”
Crede laughed at the absurdity of that kind of logic.
“And here we are,” he said.
Indeed, they were back again on the South Side, where the party never ends.