Crosstown smackdown

Once again, it's been a drawn-out, cold winter for Chicago's long-suffering sports fans. The formerly proud Bears have become one of the most woeful organizations in the NFL, and the Blackhawks thankfully spared us Bill Wirtz bragging about "Blackhawk hockey" (Stanley Cup–free since 1961!) by simply not hitting the ice at all. The Bulls have promise, but after we were spoiled by the celestial vision of Michael Jordan back in the day, Ben Gordon doesn't yet have the same je ne sais quoi. Yet.

Thankfully, the baseball season opens Monday 4, which brings us to the burning question: Who's going to be better this year, the Cubs or the Sox? If the stars align, both teams could, incredibly, actually be pretty good.

But hold on a second. Before we talk pitching (Is Freddy Garcia ready to be the Sox's ace? Will Kerry Wood ever live up to his jaw-dropping potential?) or offense (Did Kenny Williams make the right move by transforming the Sox into a small, fast team? How much will the Cubs miss Sammy Sosa and Moises Alou?), let's settle the even more critical issues: Which team has better fans, a better neighborhood, a better ballpark and a better team (measured by factors other than those cursed statistics)?

At no other time of the year does the long-standing North Side–South Side animosity boil to the surface quite like it does when the Sox step into the ring at Wrigley (and when the Cubbies venture to the South Side). Here's a preview of what to look for when our two beloved teams square off. Let's get ready to rumble.

Diehard fan profile

Cubs fan: Wears sensible, layered clothing; enjoys donning headphones to listen to Pat and Ron; keeps score in lap; jumps to shag the occasional foul ball along the left-field line.
Sox fan: Prefers to let Chicago breezes caress bare, heavily tattooed torso; doesn't need no stinking pencil to remember every play; provides immediate, hands-on feedback to umpires' poor decision-making or opposing team's uppity first-base coach.
Advantage: Cubs. A bespectacled sap seeking a foul ball is clearly in a different league from COPS escapees. —Keir Graff

Coolest tradition

Cubs: Throwing the ball back onto the field after an opponent's home run. Sure, it's adolescent, but it's also pretty cool to see the ball flying over the fence from Waveland Avenue after some jerk on the Cardinals goes yard (again) off LaTroy Hawkins. Bonus points if the hurler has a good arm and gets the ball back to the infield.
Sox: Adding insult to defeat when the fans belt out Steam's "Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)" after the Sox proudly vanquish some feeble foe. In your face, beeyatches.
Advantage: Sox. Listen closely—it's actually a pretty catchy tune.—Joel Reese

Lamest tradition

Cubs: Z-list celebs singing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame." When Mike Ditka makes a drunken ass of himself, it's funny. When the Trib's advice columnist—a flagrant emissary of nepotism—sings, "Root, root, root for the home team" instead of "...the Cubbies," the besotted ghost of Harry Caray weeps a silent tear.
Sox: Staying away in droves from Sox games, then saying their woeful attendance is because they're so smart that—unlike stupid, yuppie Cubs fans—they only go when the team is winning. Sometimes U.S. Cellular Field is emptier than a meeting of the Kim Jong Il Appreciation Society.
Advantage: Cubs. Give it a rest, Sox fans, and support your damn team. —Joel Reese

Best excuse for failure

Cubs: "$104 million just doesn't buy what it used to."
Sox: "Stupid, yuppie Cubs fans don't know jack about how the game is played."
Advantage: Cubs. They have a point. —Keir Graff

Most tired legend

Cubs: The Curse of the Goat. When restaurateur Sam Sianis and his pet goat, Murphy, were kicked out of the fourth game of the 1945 World Series, Sianis cursed the team and vowed a World Series would never again be played at Wrigley Field. Sixty years and several exorcisms later, grinning know-nothings still blame everything from poor bunting to torn rotator cuffs on "The Curse."
Sox: The Curse of the Black Sox. Turn-of-the-century owner Charles Comiskey was a tightwad who treated his players so badly they made a deal to throw the 1913 World Series to the Cincinnati Reds. Source of the apocryphal waif's cry, "Say it ain't so, Joe!," this tired tale has been added to the long list of bogus Days America Lost Its Innocence. And anyone who's surprised that athletes cheat has clearly never read the sports section.
Advantage: Sox. To their credit, Sox fans are trying to forget. —Keir Graff

Best blogs

Cubs: The Cub Reporter (www.all-baseball.com/cubreporter)Christian Ruzich was blogging about the Cubs before blogging was cool, combining a boyish passion with a professor's cool head and a barroom cutup's sense of humor. After fireballer Kerry Wood came down with tightness in his pitching shoulder, a recent headline, Wood Travels Back to Chicago, was followed quickly by Heart Travels Back up in Throat.
Sox: Exile in Wrigleyville (www.all-baseball.com/exile) This blog gets points for a clever name and a reasoned approach to the Sox's problems, a rare commodity if sports-radio callers are any indication. There is, natch, a bit too much Cub-bashing, the ball-and-chain that seems to always drag on Sox fans. The ticker that counts the seconds since the White Sox last won the World Series is a nice touch until you stare at it...and stare at it...and stare at it. Then it starts to hurt too much.
Advantage: Cubs. It's just a little easier to read without watching the time inexorably tick away. That ticking clock on the Sox blog reminds us that we're going to die soon. —Jonathan Messinger

Best celebrity cachet

Cubs: When the North Siders were winning, everyone from John Cusack to Bill Murray to Gary Sinise was glad-handing up in the booth. Billy Corgan, too, but we only count him as a celeb when he's rocking with a guitar, not reading his simpy-ass poetry.
Sox: The Sox don't have celeb fans, per se, but their hat has played a starring role in rap videos by Ice Cube, Dr. Dre and Dizzee Rascal. And The Game wore a Sox hat at his press-conference truce with 50 Cent.
Advantage: Cubs. Cusack could star in Soul Plane II and he'd still have cred. —Joel Reese

Best nearby bar to pick up a fellow fan

Cubs: Cubby Bear Lounge (1059 W Addison St, 773-327-1662). Win or lose, the fans here are shit-faced. Guys a couple years out of college who curve the bill of their Cubs hats in those plastic, fraternity, formal party cups will definitely get laid.
Sox: Puffer's (3356 S Halsted St, 773-927-6073). Ladies, if the mullet, goatee and Bears-colors Zubaz pants look gets you hot, head here. Fellas, if you don't mind stonewash on ladies who smoke menthol Capris while chewing Juicy Fruit, this is your spot. Be forewarned: You will most definitely get your ass kicked by her bartending brothers if you (a) impregnate her or (b) wear anything bearing a Cubs logo.
Advantage: Sox. Yesterday is so much cooler when viewed through Oakleys. —Heather Shouse

Best postgame watering hole where you're least likely to get puked on

Cubs: The Gingerman Tavern (3740 N Clark St, 773-549-2050). If you're interested in drinking where you can actually hear one another talk, the Gingerman stays strangely subdued for kicking back pub style. To balance out the sports factor with some Jeff Buckley–style acoustic crunchiness, Uncommon Ground (1214 W Grace St, 773-929-3680) has meatless grub, a full bar and strong coffee. Clove cigarettes optional.
Sox: Schaller's Pump (3714 S Halsted St, 773-376-6332). With the ward office across the street, the city's oldest liquor license (1881) and pork-chop-snarfing guys whose accents inspired SNL's "Da Bears" skit, Schaller's is where season ticket holders talk contracts, city and baseball after the game.
Advantage: Cubs. If Daley's cronies overhear you insulting Da Mare, dey'll hurt ya worse den your hangover will. —Heather Shouse

Best nearby haute cuisine

Cubs: Raw Bar (3720 N Clark St, 773-348-7291). Looking to show your lady friend you're more than a beer-bellied superfan who dumped fluorescent-orange nacho cheese on her during a game-tying Garciaparra home run? This seafood haven has a piano bar, dim lighting and a varied menu that will show your "exotic" side: alligator, ostrich, frog legs and enough fresh oysters to do the trick if your charm doesn't.
Sox: Franco's Ristorante (300 W 31st St, 312-225-9566). About as upscale as it gets within a stone's throw from the "Cell," Franco's is a pasta joint where you can get roasted pork chops and shrimp linguine without feeling like you're surrounded by too many pinkie rings.
Advantage: Sox. Guzzling six Old Style fan-cans you snuck into the game, and then following them with raw oysters and Cole Porter, might just turn you into the kind of hurler you don't find in a bullpen. —Heather Shouse

Best nearby beer-absorbing chow

Cubs: Twisted Spoke (3365 N Clark St, 773-525-5300). Bikers might dub Spoke regulars "weekend warriors," but this motorcycle-themed spot has a pool table, plentiful TVs and damn good "Fatboy" burgers, topped with cheddar and grilled onions and flanked by hand-cut fries. It's enough to make you duck out during the seventh-inning stretch.
Sox: Southside Shrimp House (335 W 31st St, 312-567-0000). They put crack in the fried shrimp here. They must. You'll go before the game for a half-pound to give your stomach beer padding. You'll escape during the game for a full pound. After the game you'll grab a couple pounds for the road. This shrimp will see you in your dreams.
Advantage: Sox. We feel like Hank in that King of the Hill episode where he got busted for buying crack he thought was fishing bait. We thought it was fried shrimp, officer. —Heather Shouse

Worst-case scenario

Cubs: You're walking toward Addison when a pickup truck rolls to the curb with several bat-toting yokels in the back. Suddenly you regret your last trip to the salon as one of the hicks, after appraising your artfully tousled coif, drawls, "Well, lookee here—if it ain't Carson Kressley!"
Sox: As you pass a crowded porch party, a bleary-eyed lout removes his lips from the keg tap long enough to monosyllabically note that you are: (a) not Caucasian; (b) not obviously Catholic; (c) not wearing a Sox jersey; and (d) walking upright, using your opposable thumbs to manipulate a device that marks you as a member of the liberal, cultural elite (an iPod). You stare straight ahead and quicken your pace as the motley troop begins chattering in some guttural dialect and moving off the porch onto the lawn. Keep walking, Bridgeport tourist, keep walking.
Advantage: Cubs. If it's any consolation, the police station is just a short crawl away. —Keir Graff

Public transit experience

Cubs: Visiting Wrigley, you endure a three-mile-an-hour train ride with your face in the armpit of a stout, plaid nightmare from Schaumburg who, having never taken public transit before, insists on shouting the name of each stop to his companions. He is fearful that, should they not detrain at Addison, they'll disappear at Belmont, never to be seen again.
Sox: Plenty of leg room on the ride down, although strong men have died from heatstroke on the slog across the baking-hot parking lot.
Advantage: Sox. The Red Line south from Roosevelt has in-house shopping and wagering—tube socks or shell game, anyone?—Keir Graff

Best scoreboard

Cubs: Wrigley's retro, hand-operated scoreboard is as old-skool as Run-D.M.C.'s Adidas—and just about as cool. It also boasts that "W" flag on the far-too-rare days the Cubs win.
Sox: This hyper-techno-monstrosity shows replays, highlights, animated pizza races and cringingly awkward skits where the players try to look all mean into the camera. Sorry, but Willie Harris simply can't look imposing.
Advantage: Cubs. The scoreboard doesn't show instant replays, but you're not in your living room, pal. —Joel Reese

Loyalist defense of the ballpark you're most likelyto hear

Cubs: Men standing three-deep in reeking bathrooms, waiting to relieve themselves in uncomfortable proximity to one another: "That's classic ballpark character, man!"
Sox: Walking through uncrowded causeways, voices echoing forlornly off the walls: "Stupid, yuppie Cubs fans—hey, at least we don't have scalpers!"
Advantage: Cubs. Hey, the best parties have a long line for the can, too. —Keir Graff

Best Chicago-based eats

Cubs: Wrigley's kosher dogs earn points because they're delish, topped with heaping piles of freshly grilled onions. But those points are immediately subtracted because the dogs are provided by Hebrew National, which is based in New York. The ballpark's concession stands also serve Chicago-style dogs (topped with everything short of a jockstrap), and Connie's Pizza, a Chicago deep-dish institution.
Sox: First off, the good people at U.S. Cellular don't serve any deep-dish pizza at all. They do, however, offer Best's Kosher dogs, which are trucked a mere two miles to the Cell.
Advantage: Cubs. It's a close race, but Wrigley pulls ahead with its severe loyalty to Old Style. It's not Goose Island, but hey, we'll take what we can get. —David Tamarkin

Best music between batters

Cubs: The jaunty organ tunes played between batters is nothing if not traditional. But the music's joviality doesn't quite match the Cubs' loserly track record, the same way football fans shout "We're number one!" at TV cameras when their team is down by five touchdowns. The organ is the soundtrack for the automaton Fan Robot 2000s that pay astronomic ticket prices to see the Cubs live, despite their perpetually losing ways.
Sox: The players choose their own music, which can be a good or a bad thing (we're assuming Paul Konerko still selects Metallica because he didn't see James Hetfield's inner-child run amok in Metallica: Some Kind of Monster). The team loses points now that we won't hear Van Halen's "Panama" with Carlos Lee out of town, but having the players provide the playlist makes for a fun and tidy way to judge them.
Advantage: Sox. Sorry, Cubs, no one plays "air organ" anymore. —Jonathan Messinger

Best resting place

Cubs: Persistent urban legend has it that the ashes of martyred folkie Steve Goodman were buried under home plate. Never mind that gimlet-eyed Tribune lawyers would never have let hippie musicians within a shovel's length of the field, much less home plate—this is an "awww" moment and if people want it, let them have it.
Sox: A portion of Comiskey Park's parking lot (in the pre-Cell days) was actually excavated in the search for a mob hit victim. Jaded Chicagoans, who would have expected the steam shovel to unearth more bones than an Indian burial ground, were surprised when the search came up empty. Still, that's a lot of real estate and, like Fox Mulder, we want to believe.
Advantage: Sox. Theirs has Sopranos street cred. —Keir Graff

Fights you can expect to see

Cubs: Many parents have had to shield their children's eyes, marring otherwise joyful trips to the ole ballpark, from the ugly sight of tipsy, hooky-playing executives beating each other with laptops as they fight for the patch of concourse that a prankster has told them is the "Wrigley Field Wi-Fi Zone."
Sox: Many a budding South Side statistician has been traumatized by violence in the stands, watching his elders come to blows after arguing for several innings over whether, during the '73 season, starting pitcher Wilbur Wood fielded his position better than Stan Bahnsen. ("It's Wood, you mook—hey, come back here, I'm not done with you!")
Advantage: Sox. Two yuppies in a slap fight? Sad. —Keir Graff

Best recent on-field fracas

Cubs: Woe to Cincinnati Reds pitcher Paul Wilson, who foolishly charged the mound last year after taking exception to a fastball from Kyle Farnsworth. The massive (former) Cubs pitcher body-slammed Wilson with a tackle that would make Brian Urlacher green with envy, and proceeded to unload a serious ass-whuppin' on the beleaguered, bloodied Redlegs hurler.
Sox: In the first of a crucial three-game series against the Twins last year, Minnesota center fielder Torii Hunter cruise-missiled into Sox catcher Jamie Burke, knocking him on his keister and out of the game. The Sox wanly muttered something about retaliation, but went all Gandhi-passive-resistance. The Twins went on to sweep all three games.
Advantage: Cubs. The Twins are also known as the "Twinkies." Ouch. —Joel Reese

Coolest players' nicknames

Cubs: The Baby Bears have Greg "Mad Dog" Maddux and, well, Kerry "Woody" Wood. That's it. This is as lame as hockey players who give each other a nickname simply by adding a "y" sound onto the end of the last name (i.e., Chris Chelios becomes "Chelly," Doug Wilson becomes "Dougie," etc.).
Sox: The Pale Hose have Shingo "Mr. Zero" Takatsu, Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez and Frank "The Big Hurt" Thomas. Not only are the sobriquets better, but the players are from Japan, Cuba and Columbus, Georgia, respectively.
Advantage: Sox. Diversity and creativity? Can't beat that with a corked bat. —Joel Reese

Best former team name

Cubs: Over its 129-year history, the team has been known as the White Stockings, the Colts and the Orphans.
Sox: They've always been the White Sox. There's a Zen-like elegance to that, isn't there?
Advantage: Cubs. The Orphans is cool because it was a gang in The Warriors. Wait, that gang sucked. Never mind.
Advantage: Sox. —Joel Reese

Most ignominious playoff moment

Cubs: It's Game Six of the 2003 National League Championship Series. The Cubs are ahead of the Florida Marlins, 3-0. They're five outs away from the World Series. Luis Castillo lofts a foul ball down the left-field line...oh, come on. You know what happened.
Sox: It's Game Four of the 1983 American League Championship Series, and the Baltimore Orioles have a two games to one lead. It's tied 0-0 in the bottom of the sixth inning, but the White Sox are rallying: Jerry Dybzinski is on first and Vance Law is on second. Julio "Juice" Cruz hits a screaming single to left, and Law stops at third. But Dybzinski keeps coming from second, so Law tries to run home. He's thrown out by a Mississippi mile, the Sox don't score and they eventually go on to lose 3-0 in the tenth inning.
Advantage: Sox. I was at that NLCS game. I don't want to talk about it. —Joel Reese

Best movie featuring team

Cubs:Rookie of the Year (1993). Kid breaks arm, discovers he has a Carlos Zambrano–like fastball, and leads the Cubs to the World Series. (Sorry, that sweet scene by the sign in The Blues Brothers doesn't count.)
Sox:The Stratton Story (1949). Rags-to-riches pitcher reaches the major leagues, loses a leg in a hunting accident, comes back to pitch in exhibition game. (Eight Men Out doesn't make the cut because it was so damn earnest.)
Advantage: Sox. Stratton has Jimmy Stewart; Rookie has Gary Busey. You make the call. —Joel Reese

Final score: 12–12

Since our deadline precludes extra innings, we're handing this one to the Cell. Sure, it may look like a rock arena, but at least it isn't turning into one. With the prospect of the friendly confines being turned over to Jimmy Buffett and his flock of Parrotheads for a Labor Day-concert—and the stadium's uncertain structural integrity—we're sticking to the South Side this summer. Here's hoping a chunk of concrete doesn't land in your cheeseburger in paradise.