[Nick Soulis]

Series #237



1919 Chicago White Sox
Record: 88-52
Finish: Lost in World Series
Manager: Kid Gleason
Ball Park: Comiskey Park
WAR Leader: Eddie Ciccote (9.8)
Franchise Record: 11-7
1919 Season Record: 2-3
Hall of Famers: (3)
https://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/CHW/1919.shtml

1983 Minnesota Twins
Record: 70-92
Finish: 5th in AL West
Manager: Billy Gardner
Ball Park: Metrodome
WAR Leader: John Castino (4.5)
Franchise Record: 5-3
1983 Season Record: 1-1
Hall of Famers: (0)
https://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/MIN/1983.shtml
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Heaven’s Dugout — Field of Dreams Series #237: “The Return of the Black Sox”



Host: Bob Costas
Panelists: Kevin Millar | Ozzie Guillen | Mike North | George Will

(The show opens in the rustic Heaven’s Dugout studio in Dyersville, Iowa — the wood-plank backdrop glows softly under golden light, and the cornfield beyond the window sways under the evening sky. A faint echo of Chris Stapleton’s “Starting Over” lingers as Bob Costas welcomes the viewers.)

Segment 1 – A Return from the Shadows

Bob Costas (opening):

“Good evening, everybody. Tonight, we open a series that transcends baseball. The 1919 Chicago White Sox — eight men who broke the covenant of the game — step once more onto a diamond. Opposite them, the 1983 Minnesota Twins, a team with youthful innocence, facing ghosts whose story has haunted the sport for more than a century. Gentlemen, some call this a travesty, others a chance at redemption. Let’s begin there.”

Kevin Millar:

“Bob, I love it. You can’t tell the story of baseball without the ‘19 Sox. Yeah, they did wrong, but this field — this tournament — it’s built for second chances. Joe Jackson hit .375 in that Series. The man never stopped raking. Maybe this is his shot to show what he could’ve done if history hadn’t slammed the door on him.”

Ozzie Guillen (grinning, passionate):

“I played for that organization, Bob, and we live with that ghost every day. People forget — the city of Chicago never got over it. You talk about forgiveness? Then let’s see it. If Joe Jackson walks out of the corn and gets another hit, you clap your hands. You don’t judge him — you enjoy the game he loved.”

Mike North (snapping in, Chicago cadence):

“Hold on, Ozzie. I’m a South Side guy, but come on — they threw the World Series! If Landis were alive, he’d shut this thing down tonight. You can’t make heroes outta guys who tanked games. Redemption’s fine, but let’s not rewrite the rulebook because we get sentimental.”

George Will (measured):

“But Mike, baseball’s morality has always existed in tension with its mythology. The beauty of this setting — the cornfield, the ghosts — is that it allows for reflection, not absolution. The 1919 Sox remind us of how fragile virtue is when money whispers. Yet they also remind us that love for the game survives even disgrace.”

Costas:

“And that, perhaps, is the paradox at the center of this series — the need for justice and the hunger for forgiveness.”

Segment 2 – The Meaning of Shoeless Joe

Costas:

“Let’s zero in on Shoeless Joe. He’s become the moral compass of the dishonest — a man guilty yet innocent, punished yet beloved. Why does he endure in our imagination?”

Will:

“Because he embodies the Shakespearean tragedy in baseball — a man too gifted for his own circumstance. His swing was poetry, his silence damning. We can’t decide whether to condemn or canonize him, so we do both.”

Millar:

“Man, you talk about talent — 408 lifetime on-base in a dead-ball era? Forget it. I just wanna see him lace one into the gap tonight, take that slow jog to second, and smile. That’s what the fans came for.”

Guillen:

“Joe Jackson never talked much, but his bat did. You think those kids on the Twins don’t feel it? They look across and see a ghost who could’ve been the best ever. That’s pressure. That’s respect.”

North:

“Or intimidation, Ozzie. The ‘83 Twins are real people, not storybook characters. They’re out here to win, not play therapist. You think Gaetti’s shaking hands with Joe Jackson because he wants to heal baseball’s soul? No — he’s thinking about parking one off the barn.”

Costas (smiling):

“And yet, that’s what makes the matchup so fascinating — reality colliding with myth.”

Segment 3 – The Matchup: 1919 White Sox vs 1983 Twins



Costas:

“On the field, what are we looking at? Ozzie, you managed in both eras in spirit — what happens between the lines?”

Guillen:

“You got Eddie Cicotte and Lefty Williams — old-school command, ball moving like it’s dancing in the corn. Twins got power: Gaetti, Hrbek, a young Puckett, hungry. But this White Sox team plays angry. They’re playing for their names.”

Millar:

“Don’t underestimate that. Anger’s fuel. These ‘19 guys have been in baseball purgatory for a hundred years. They’ll play like it’s oxygen.”

North:

“And I’ll tell ya this — if the ‘83 Twins take Game 1, that purgatory turns into quicksand. These ghosts’ll start doubting themselves again. History ain’t just baggage — it’s a backpack full of bricks.”

Will:

“But perhaps the cornfield itself is a neutralizer — a pastoral tribunal where the game, stripped of commerce, returns to its essence. Perhaps we’ll see pure baseball, uncorrupted.”

Costas:

“So the question becomes — is this series about winning, or about becoming whole again?”

Segment 4 – The Soul of the Tournament

Costas (reflective):

“The Field of Dreams Tournament has brought together nearly 2,300 teams across time. But many say this is its soul — the moment it was all leading to. The disgraced team returning to the place built for grace. Kevin, what’s at stake here beyond the scoreboard?”

Millar:

“Legacy, Bob. Simple as that. If the ‘19 Sox can play clean, compete hard, show love for the game — even if they lose — they win something bigger. They show every kid that baseball forgives.”

Guillen:

“It’s not about forgiving — it’s about feeling. You see Joe Jackson hit a double, you feel baseball in your chest again. That’s what this place does.”

North (leaning in):

“And if they blow it again? If they get beat by a bunch of kids from the Metrodome era? Then the story ends the same way it started — with disappointment. That’s the risk of redemption.”

Will:

“But what a magnificent risk. The Field of Dreams is not a courtroom — it’s a confessional. And in confession, there’s always the hope that grace, however undeserved, will find you.”

Costas (nodding slowly):

“Perhaps that’s why we watch. Not for certainty, but for hope. When the 1919 White Sox step onto this field, they remind us that no sin, however infamous, can entirely silence the beauty of the game.”

(The panel falls silent; the camera drifts toward the glowing window beyond them, the cornfield swaying as twilight fades to night.)

Costas (final words):

“Series 237 isn’t just another matchup. It’s the heartbeat of this tournament — the collision of guilt and grace, of what was lost and what can still be found. From the shadows of 1919 to the promise of 1983, baseball once again asks its eternal question: can a game this pure ever truly forgive?”

(The music swells. The Heaven’s Dugout logo fades onto the screen — Field of Dreams Series #237 — “The Return of the Black Sox.” Fade to black.)

Series #237 Broadcasters:



From the Booth – Red Barber and David Ross

(The vintage Comiskey Park crowd hums with anticipation — the wooden grandstands creak under 35,000 restless fans, pennants flutter above the scoreboard, and the faint smell of cigars and roasted peanuts fills the air. The camera pans to the broadcast booth where Red Barber, immaculately composed, leans toward his microphone.)

Red Barber:

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Red Barber speaking to you from Comiskey Park in Chicago, where the ghosts of baseball’s most controversial chapter return to the living game. It is, quite simply, one of the most anticipated contests ever played in this grand Field of Dreams tournament — the 1919 White Sox, their honor long debated, their skill never denied, meeting the 1983 Minnesota Twins, a team forged in youth, resilience, and the bright lights of the Metrodome era.”

(He pauses as the camera captures the field — Lefty Williams warming in the bullpen, his windup deliberate and calm.)

“There’s something in the air tonight that feels older than the ballgame itself — something like penance. Out on that mound, Lefty Williams carries the weight of a scandal that shook baseball to its roots. And standing in the opposite dugout, a smiling Bobby Castillo, the California kid with the screwball and the swagger, ready to remind the world that baseball’s joy always outlives its shame.”

David Ross (chuckling softly):

“Red, I gotta tell you, walking into this park today felt different. You can feel the ghosts here. You see those old Sox warming up, and there’s Joe Jackson loosening that left arm — it’s like baseball’s past walked right into your living room. But those ’83 Twins? Don’t sleep on them. They’re scrappy, they play loose, and they’ve got Frank Viola ready to go later in the series. They’re not just here for the history — they’re here to win.”

Barber:

“Yes indeed, Mr. Ross. And if there’s one thing this series promises, it is contrast — redemption against youth, conscience against confidence, and the unspoken question that hangs above us all: Can time forgive what talent once betrayed?”

(The crowd begins to rise as the public address announcer introduces the lineups — the names echo like scripture from the loudspeakers. Jackson, Weaver, Collins, Felsch — the crowd cheers with reverent hesitation.)

Ross:

“And Red, listen to that reaction for Joe Jackson — 104 years later, they’re still debating him, but man, they still love him. You can hear it. That’s the sound of forgiveness — or maybe just fascination.”

Barber:

“And perhaps, Mr. Ross, they are one and the same. We’re moments away from the first pitch in Game One of Series 237. The corn is quiet, the crowd is not, and baseball — as it always does — prepares to speak for itself.”

(The camera fades from the booth to the field as Lefty Williams walks slowly to the mound. The crackle of Barber’s voice lingers as the broadcast transitions…)

“Stay with us, friends. After the first pitch, we’ll head to the Heaven’s Dugout panel — where Bob Costas and company will dive into what this series means, not just to the White Sox, but to the soul of the game itself.”