He hate me? White Sox announcer John Schriffen gets caught up in a rare exciting moment

Chicago White Sox fans

Loyal, but frustrated, White Sox fans weren’t sure how to take broadcaster John Schriffen’s “hater” remark.

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At — or around — 9 p.m. on the night of April 27, White Sox play-by-play voice John Schriffen introduced himself to the city.

Off the sound of Andrew Benintendi’s bat, the officially-less-than-a-month-in announcer let his own euphoria (most won’t get that) get the best of him, screaming off the 401 foot walk-off home run that became the Sox fifth win of the season — the first two-game win streak of 2024 for them — “Say it with me, say it proud, for all of the haters — South Side, stand up!”

Tone deafness sometimes hits home differently.

See, the “South Side, stand up!” piece, although a little extreme even in the moment, was understood and justified especially under the depth of circumstances the White Sox found themselves in 27 games deep into the season. But it was the “for all you haters” part that provoked way too many way the wrong way. Especially when open-endedly screamed during a broadcast with no clarification who the target was.

“Haters,” us? Or “haters,” them? Those who’ve been ride-and-die with the White Sox from the days of Nellie Fox and Luke Appling, who are so disgusted with what’s been building with the organization over the last three seasons that we hate the situation, hate the self-inflicted state of affairs, hate the ownership, while never hating the team? Or those who’ve taken this first month of the baseball season to not only kick, but throw dirt and any type of excrement they can find on the Sox while they lay on the ground on the verge of being stadium-less with one leg in their grave?

Who are we haters that he spoke of? Spoke to? Once Schriffen (purposely?) never cleared that up it became open season on who he hurled the vitriol at and unhinged on just how the vitriol came directly back at him. All’s fair in love and historically bad baseball.

Because what had happened was … Schriffen got caught up. Caught up in his own Hollywood White Sox strip scene, lost in a moment of passion on-air where his outside voice took over for four words. He simply dragged his entire 27 days of replacing Jason Benetti into two seconds he probably thought he’d have much sooner. His excitement not only for the win but how the win happened (understand the White Sox had already been walked-off twice before this) allowed the frustration of them losing that had been piling up inside of him — the same frustration that true Sox fans have been harboring for almost two decades now — to unexpectedly and unpreparedly escape.

And when someone new to the “family” tosses out directionless code words, like “haters,” to a rightfully sensitive and mistreated fan base in a town where things are so bad the “regular” haters on the other side of town ain’t even hatin’ no more, the outcome ain’t ever pretty.

Social media had its way. The streets had their way. Sports radio had its way. All letting Schriffen know the rules of engagement when it comes to the importance of specificity in broadcasting in this city when it comes to demonizing those who “hate" verses those who love so hard it comes off like hate. In this city sometimes it takes years to distinguish between the two. He’s finding out the hard way.

Look, people get caught up all of the time. No one in sports media is immune to it. We just all don’t suffer the same fate. Stephen A. Smith and JJ Reddick both got caught up this week too. So Schriffen was in legendary company.

The reality is, this is more about the White Sox' record than what Schriffin actually said. Had their win/loss been 22-5 instead of the 5-22 at the time, we all would have known who — and what side of town — those haters he called out were. We WSox’s would have been yelling the same thing right along with him. But getting caught up is not a good look while the team is on track to having one of the worst baseball seasons for a franchise in the game’s modern history.

Put another way: When you are dying during a drought and a bottle of Acqua Panna appears in front of you in the form of a game-ending W, gulping the water so fast that you damn near drown is understandable. But don’t look down at your drenched shirt and the soaked ground and see how much water you wasted and then throw shade at the outside world for the way you drank the water.

It doesn’t work like that. There’s codes of ethics that come with getting caught up as a broadcaster in a baseball petty city as Chicago. Schriffen may not know this yet, so here’s a small bit of “Welcome to the South Side of Chi” advice for the new guy: Own every word, don’t apologize but also don’t double-down (there’s an art to that, we’ll teach you), put names on exactly who your targets are, and lastly, make sure getting caught up doesn’t ever catch you off-guard again.

Because next time, we won’t be so nice.

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