South Side Hitmen: The Story of the 1977 Chicago White Sox (IL)

by Leo Bauby (Photographer), Dan Helpingstine

By self-admission, the 1977 Chicago White Sox couldn't catch, run, or throw; and only on occasion could they pitch. Some felt unwanted and unloved by past teams. Two were told by skeptics that they didn't even belong on the field. Yet it was these qualities that made them one of the most entertaining teams in franchise history. They didn't bunt to move runners along, steal bases to distract the opposing defense, or turn the double play. They just hit and hit until demoralized opponents cried uncle. They didn't win the World Series or even a division title. They couldn't be called champions, but they lived up to another title. They were the South Side Hitmen. Team owner Bill Veeck transformed a hapless 1976 ball club into contenders and big-time draws at the ticket box. New acquisitions Oscar Gamble, Richie Zisk, and Eric Soderholm led the team to a franchise record 192 home runs, while legendary broadcaster Harry Caray led Comskey Park fans through the seventh-inning stretch. The White Sox won 90 games that season (including 22 in an amazing month of July) and finished first in the hearts of baseball fans across the city's South Side.

Genres: Baseball

128 pages, Paperback

First published March 13, 2006

Reviews

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

Of all eras of a sports franchise to write a book on, especially one as vast as the Chicago White Sox, 1977 is a strange one. I will grant that I was merely one-year old when the South Side Hitmen went on an offensive tear with a rag tag group of castoffs. Still, despite a valiant effort that lead to 90 wins, it was an era of 4 divisions and far better ball clubs than this one.

Then again, Chicago does have an odd history when it comes to the game of baseball. Both teams have lasted as long as their respective leagues have been in existence. Both teams also have a history of futility when they reside in a city that should provide them countless resources to build continuous success. It is due to this that a team such as the power hitting and defensively-inept 1977 Chicago White Sox would warrant such a tribute.

For me, the bulk of this story was interesting, telling of a season of my favorite sports franchise from before I was capable of awareness beyond the skin of my nose. It offers detail that would be lost on the fans of another franchise during what ultimately was a good-but-not-great season. There were flashes of brilliance and moments of high hopes that ultimately ended the same way the season before it had and after it would.

I suppose that is why for as much as I did like reading this, it felt like an incomplete story that would make a fine chapter in a greater story, but maybe not an entire book. There is no great triumph, nor is there crushing failure. The 1977 Chicago White Sox were a flash in the pan, both personally and literally. They were quickly assembled and just as quickly disbanded. In a way, they came together in a similar fashion as would-be survivors in a zombie movie. Thankfully, greatness and further heights were not too far down the road.

[Stephen Rynkiewicz]

Somehow I've misplaced the Coca-Cola press release I wrote for a 1977 Sox promotion, but it got me into my first Sox home game, That turned a Chicago transplant into an adopted South Sider. The all-hit, no-field Sox is the opposite of the recent post-championship seasons. Not sure the publisher had rights to all the photos here, but they did bring back the era. Some smart commentary at the end about what made the '77 Sox memorable.