First, a confession: I prefer the Sox, but if the Cubs are having a decent year, I'll root for them too.

I know it's heresy to say so around here, but I'm mostly a fan of good local baseball, no matter whether the uniform is black and the ballpark comfortable or the uniform is blue and the ballpark a testament to the mediocre crowd-management capabilities of our forefathers.

In any event, it doesn't look like there'll be much of an issue this year. The White Sox are playing respectable, scrappy baseball (although less so of late) on the city's South Side. Up north, the Cubs continue to show up for games, at least.

Agnosticism such as mine, of course, is not the regional norm. Pick a team, then live (and die) with them, seems to be the credo. Your blood should run one color or the other, and the easiest time to be cordial to a fan of the other side is when you are both cheering for the Bears.

But it is one thing to know or to live the Cubs-Sox rivalry. It is another to devote an entire museum exhibition to it. The Elmhurst Historical Museum has done so, with a keen eye for telling detail, in the new "Sox vs. Cubs: The Chicago Civil Wars."

It's a three-room homage to a two-team town, to what it means to have had a pair of professional franchises fighting for people's loyalty for more than a century.

Cubs songs and Sox songs find their place here. Harry Caray, announcer for both teams, is prominent. So are replicas of the scoreboards, Wrigley Field's so much more stately. Bats and other tchotchkes given away at the gate decorate many surfaces. Kids can set lineups using magnetized baseball cards.

Even the souvenir shop seems to ask you to proclaim your loyalty. Whose vintage pennant will you buy, which book of team lore? Only the official exhibition souvenir splits the difference, "Sox vs. Cubs" printed on the barrel of a $5 mini baseball bat.

The exhibition does not pick sides, either, although curator Lance Tawzer has cleverly split the rooms whenever possible, Sox stuff on the left, Cubs on the right. It's not a ranking or a political choice, just a reminder of the segregation that exists.

One of his centerpieces is cerebral. It's a data-rich, full-wall chart comparing the teams through their histories. We see all the team logos, all of the uniforms, including ones from the era when the White Sox dressed like a softball team. We see the early team names, including the perhaps surprising one that the Cubs first used: the White Stockings.

Originally posted here:
'Sox vs Cubs': Rivalry as an exhibit