In the realm of papal oddities, the burning question of whether the new pope prefers the Cubs or the White Sox is a uniquely Chicago twist on Vatican intrigue. According to CBS Sports, much of the city spent the hours after Cardinal Robert Prevost’s elevation to Pope Leo XIV debating this perplexing matter, with the city’s ballclubs elbowing for bragging rights and acting, briefly, as though the spiritual fate of baseball itself was hanging in the balance.
It was a brief but industrious scramble that saw signs, social posts, and satisfied winks from both sides—until the pope’s brother called time.
The Papal Box Score: Sox, Cubs, and a Family Full of Cardinals
When word broke of the first American-born pope hailing from Chicago, local baseball loyalties quickly stole the stage. The Cubs, ever hopeful, seized on a claim aired by an ABC News reporter and had Wrigley Field’s iconic marquee proclaiming, “Hey, Chicago. He’s a Cubs fan!” CBS Sports details how the team’s announcement enjoyed a moment in the sun, their social media hoping to claim spiritual home field advantage.
But if anyone’s keeping Apostolic score, that inning ended rather abruptly. Blue Water Healthy Living, summarizing reporting from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, documents how John Prevost—the pontiff’s brother—set the record straight to WGN-TV: “He was never, ever a Cubs fan,” John clarified, adding, “He was always a Sox fan.” Elaborating for those trying to triangulate the family’s divided loyalties, John explained their mother’s family cheered for the north side Cubs, their father rooted for the St. Louis Cardinals, but the pope himself “would have been the only one of his brothers to be a Cubs fan” if he were—which, evidently, he wasn’t.
With heathen confusion thus dispelled, the White Sox wasted little time celebrating, issuing their own congratulatory post, gently hinting that perhaps some conversions are just out of reach—papal office notwithstanding.
Heavenly Hits: How Far Does Papal Preference Go?
The cultural theology here is undeniably specific. While the Roman Catholic Church’s relationship to Major League Baseball has mostly consisted of papal Masses in stadiums from Yankees to Dodgers, as combined in CBS Sports coverage, it’s rare that the pope’s actual team choice becomes a subject of mass speculation. Pope Leo XIV’s Chicago credentials, as the outlet also notes, run deep: ordained in the city, educated in Hyde Park, a teacher and Augustinian leader, with a career divided between Chicago and Peru before his Vatican ascent.
Ironically, the pontiff emerges from a family where every great baseball rivalry seems to have found a seat—yet his own declaration lands firmly on the south side. There’s a symmetry there that will undoubtedly endear him to generations of Sox fans who have always known a thing or two about patience and faith.
Would papal infallibility, should it be applied to designated hitters and bullpen management, ease the White Sox’s eternal agonies? Tough to say. At the very least, it’s a reminder that even the most significant spiritual milestones can still get tangled up in neighborhood squabbles and sports allegiances.
The Quirks of Divine Fandom
It’s oddly fitting that this entire discourse was resolved not with church dogma or city hall proclamations, but a few plain words from the pope’s brother—a very Chicagoan way to handle a hometown affair. That the answer came with the sort of “do your homework” clarity suggests that, even as global headlines swirl, some things remain as local as a Vienna beef hot dog.
Blue Water Healthy Living, referencing the original interview, gently points out the Cubs’ misfire and tips its cap to White Sox fans, and perhaps to Brewers fans as well, who surely appreciate every opportunity for a Cubs “L”—divine or otherwise.
Can one imagine the ceremonial first pitch at Guaranteed Rate Field, with a pontifical presence in the stands? Stranger miracles have happened in baseball. And for once, south siders may be justified in dreaming of divine intervention during extra innings.
Final Reflection: Faith, Fandom, and the Game That Never Quite Ends
If nothing else, this whole saga underscores that, for all its global import, the papacy can still be swept up in the tangled, affectionate mess of Chicago baseball. Correction, especially on such crucial matters, comes swiftly; the great Sox/Cubs schism has, for now, found its answer at the highest level. It remains to be seen whether a papal blessing will improve the Sox’s odds this season—but there’s little doubt which team has just gained a VIP seat in the heavenly bleachers.
And in a city where sports loyalties are as fixed as family names and parish pews, maybe that was the only outcome possible. Is there anyone, spiritual leader or not, who can truly bridge the Cubs vs. Sox divide?
