'It's an honor to be here, sir'

WASHINGTON -- It was bone-chilling cold.

The kind that when you speak of it two years later, it sends shivers through your core. But Kevin Sullivan sat through it to the end, soaked to his socks in rain and near-freezing temperatures like any South Sider who had waited a lifetime for a title.

When time meets space and the fundamental quantities line up for a baseball fan, you don't let a little thing like pneumonia get in the way of a dream.

And when Scott Podsednik delivered the signature moment of the 2005 World Series, a walk-off home run in Game 2, Sullivan was fairly certain he had died and gone to Heaven.

Until nine months later.

On July 5, 2006, Sullivan sat in the Oval Office with the president of the United States, who was about to offer him the job as White House communications director.

"We had met a few times before when I was working for the Mavericks and he owned the Rangers,'' Sullivan explained, as he sat in his West Wing office last week. "I knew he loved sports, but I didn't want to make it the focal point of the interview.

"I didn't want him to think I didn't have more to offer than knowing (Paul) Konerko went 2-for-4 the night before, so I was reluctant to bring it up.''

Like anyone who walks into the Oval Office for the first time, Sullivan was struck by its brightness and beauty, as much as the magnitude.

"It's surreal, like something out of a movie set,'' Sullivan marveled. "All you can think is, 'Don't screw this up. It's the chance of a lifetime.'

"I said, 'It's an honor to be here, Sir.'

"He said, 'It's an honor for me, too, every day I walk in here.'

"He said, 'So where you from?'

"And I hadn't planned this, but it just came out.

"I said, 'Chicago… White Sox, not Cubs.'

"He smiled and we talked for a while and I told him that up until that moment, until sitting in that chair, Game 2 had been the greatest day of my life, outside of my kids being born.

"He turned to (counselor) Dan Bartlett and said, 'So we got a baseball fan here.' ''

A fan is born

Kevin Sullivan grew up in Evergreen Park a devout White Sox fan, thanks to his father, another true believer who lived and died with the Sox and made sure his son was hooked.

"A few months ago, I searched for it online and actually found the box score from my first game in August 1965,'' said the 49-year-old Sullivan. "The White Sox lost to the Orioles, 8-1, in front of 9,000 people. They lost, and I remember it as one of the great events in history. Isn't that funny?''

After graduating from Marist High School in 1976, Sullivan left Chicago and his beloved Sox behind, and today only his brother Tim (Oakbrook Terrace) and sister Colleen (Beverly) remain.

From there it was Purdue, his master's in mass communication at Iona, and 18 years with the Dallas Mavericks, before moving to New York and NBC Universal to run communications for all the biggest sporting events.

"The Olympics was definitely the highlight, but after Athens (2004) I moved to the corporate side and figured I was going to be there a long time,'' Sullivan said. "Turns out it was six months. That's when I was abducted by aliens.''

Well, not exactly.

A mutual friend from his Mavericks days suggested a lunch with Secretary of Education Margaret Spellings, and before the first fork was lifted in anger, Sullivan was on his way to Washington.

"I had never toiled in the political vineyard, and as you know most people who get these opportunities have been around this their entire lives,'' Sullivan said. "She was looking for someone different, an outside person to run external affairs.

"I didn't know anything about any of this. I thought I was having lunch. Before we even ordered, she said, 'What do you want to do after NBC?'

"And then she made her appeal. Trust me when I tell you: People have a hard time saying no to her.

"She said if you do this, it would be the most important thing you've ever done, or ever will do.

"Once someone says that, you're pretty much hooked.

"I talked to Jo Anne, my wife, and she was all for it. She thought it would be a rewarding experience, and she was right.''

That was April 2005. Fifteen months later, President Bush named him assistant to the president for communications.

The West Wing

As you navigate the tiny hallways of the West Wing, Sullivan assistant Leslea Byrd points to the constantly updated pictures of the president with heads of state that may have been taken only a day or two ago.

And as you walk into Kevin Sullivan's office, you immediately notice the dominant piece of art behind his desk is a large picture of Konerko and Jermaine Dye presenting President Bush with a White Sox jersey during their visit in February 2006.

It's no less imposing or purposeful than the picture of George Washington that hangs above the fireplace in the Oval Office. On a bookshelf sits a small metal replica of the late Comiskey Park, and nearby is a team picture of the 1959 Sox. On his desk sits a World Series pin, courtesy of Scott Reifert, the White Sox vice president of communications.

"I check the Sox Web site a couple times a week and catch some ESPN here and there, but I'm usually about a day behind because I don't get to read the sports sections from all the papers until I get home at night,'' Sullivan laughed. "My son, Terry, the oldest of four, he sends me email from Providence (University) constantly with news about the Sox.

"But we talk sports around here when we have time. (Wednesday) on the plane home from Omaha -- the shooting hadn't happened yet -- we were talking about the Pats game, and a couple Reds fans were talking about Dusty Baker.

"The president loves the NFL and college football and follows baseball, so it comes up all the time.

"We were talking on Marine One (Wednesday) about the Marlins-Tigers deal, and the president looked at me and smiled, and took a little poke at me.

"He said, 'That's some deal for Detroit. They're going to be very tough in that division.'

"If there's something in the news and there's a free moment, we talk about it."

Answering the call

It is more unfortunate reality than exaggeration that most people will work a lifetime without feeling a part of something, or that what they do has meaning.

That is not the case for those called to public service, because if they answer the phone when it rings, it's all- consuming, and it is very much temporary.

Most at the White House sleep little, work long hours, and pour their hearts into it, aware that nothing they do the rest of their lives will compare. Regardless of which party lives in the residence, the effort is moving and admirable.

"It's a lot like working in sports. It gives you an opportunity to be a part of something in your community that people care about,'' Sullivan said. "Being a part of something where people are so passionate about their jobs is appealing to me, just like it was when I worked for the Mavericks.

"You talk to students who want to get into sports because they love it, but that's not enough. You have to love being a part of it, contributing to the team. You have to believe in the cause and you can't jump on and off the bandwagon.

"Just like in sports, the highs here are very high and the lows very low, but you drive home a lot of days thinking you did something special, and you drive home every day knowing you served the president.

"It's an amazing feeling that doesn't go away."

And the pinch-me moments are ubiquitous.

"(Monday night) my wife and I were at a Congressional ball in the East Room dancing to a disco song we probably hadn't heard since college,'' Sullivan said, ignoring the constant buzz of his phone. "I thought of us in the basement at the frat house at Purdue with our feet sticking to the floor.

"And now we're here.''

Sullivan stops for a moment and shakes his head.

"(Wednesday) night I was at a reception a few blocks away and my car was here (at the White House),'' he continued. "So I walked back through Lafayette Park. It was snowing pretty hard and I just stopped and looked at the White House. It was beautiful.

"When those moments occur, you have to recognize them and stop and take it in."

Life on the go

Kevin Sullivan meets with the president in the Oval Office almost daily, though Thursday when I sat with Sullivan in his office about noon, he had already met with the president twice.

He's one of about 20 senior staffers -- top assistants to the president -- and yet he still manages to watch Purdue football on Saturdays, and pretends to have a life outside Pennsylvania Avenue.

"Last Saturday, my wife and I were supposed to tour the White House with some friends to see the Christmas decorations, and then go out to dinner,'' Sullivan laughed. "Well, my phone rings and they ate dinner while I stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant on the phone listening to a conference call on the energy bill.

"Then, I got up a 5:30 Sunday and spent two hours reviewing the bill. I saw Bill Gates once said he doesn't watch TV and doesn't follow sports because it's such a waste of time, and I thought, 'That's such a shame.'

"Sports is a great diversion, and there's great stories, human stories, of tragedy and triumph.

"I don't want to give that up, so if it means staying up to watch a game and a little less sleep, when you're this sleep-deprived, what's a little bit more?''

I stood with Sullivan in the Roosevelt Room on Thursday afternoon as the president unveiled a foreclosure relief plan designed to potentially help 1.2 million distressed homeowners.

At that moment, it was difficult to imagine Sullivan a year from now, preparing for his next life, walking into offices that aren't rounded like an egg.

"I actually said to my wife the other day that I wouldn't mind getting back into sports, and I wouldn't mind returning to Chicago,'' Sullivan said with a smile. "But I don't know how she'll feel about the weather.''

If there's a perfect fit for him, it would seem to be returning to Chicago and heading the city's Olympic bid in 2016 or beyond.

"I've sharpened my skills, to be sure,'' Sullivan said. "I'm sure I'll find something appropriately challenging.

"Not to say that there aren't great things out there, but it's like an athlete retiring from pro sports. After working at the White House, your life's never going to be the same. It'll take some getting used to.

"But, hey, I'll be a free agent. Maybe the White Sox will want me.''

And with that, Sullivan grins a big South Side grin, shakes a hand, and disappears around the corner and up the stairs.

Time is not on his side, and the White Sox will have to wait.