White Sox could learn plenty from Blackhawks

In plain view Saturday night was hope for the White Sox, if only they were perceptive enough to recognize it.

The game was hockey instead of baseball and played in the United Center instead of Comiskey Park.

But it was clear again, right then and there, that the Blackhawks have established a striking bond with the public. From ownership down they’re not only more likable and liked than any other sports franchise in town but more trustworthy and trusted.

To understand the relationship, all you had to do was watch the Hawks deliver players to the home opener in limos as fans stood on Madison Street worshipping them.

Afterward the UC was filled to capacity, just as it has been for every Hawks game in recent memory.

The Hawks have led the NHL in attendance at more than 21,000 fans per game. Season tickets reportedly were renewed at a 99.2 percent pace from last season to this.

The difference between the Hawks and other franchises is their people likely are devastated over losing that .8 percent and wonder why renewals weren’t at 110 percent.

For the opener, as usual, the aptly dubbed Madhouse on Madison was jumping like Comiskey Park rarely does anymore.

Crowds on the South Side were sparse this season as the Sox averaged 25,000 tickets sold. For many games, many fewer fans actually were in a park that has a capacity of around 40,000.

Judging by the waiting list for season tickets, give the Hawks 25,000 seats and they could sell them. Heck, give them 40,000 and they might sell them.

Most of the time this season Comiskey was so unplugged that it seemed the Sox didn’t pay their electric bill.

The United Center was like that for hockey not too long ago, when the Hawks sold maybe 2,000 season tickets and were lucky to draw 10,000 to a game.

Since then the franchise went from irrelevant to irresistible.

So, yes, it can be done. A sports team can be energized in less time than you can spit out “Adam Dunn.”

Even before the Hawks won a Stanley Cup in 2010, they unabashedly, unashamedly set out to gain attention.

The Hawks started knocking on doors. They became creative. They dared to dream. They advertised hard. They marketed harder. They drove hardest, and not just to the net.

During last week’s lead-up to the season opener, Hawks front-office personnel and players were all over radio and TV when a few years ago they couldn’t buy time on those major outlets.

But the biggest thing the Hawks did was change — change management, change strategy, change attitude.

The Sox haven’t changed much for a while. Maybe a few years ago the status quo would be OK, but not since the Hawks demonstrated that a team can go from not so popular to so very popular in a short period.

Like the Hawks, the Sox won a championship not long ago, but their baseball and marketing departments failed to capitalize on the momentum.

Now the Sox have to initiate fresh momentum from a standing start. Their style isn’t to be overtly imposing in pursuit of popularity, but if a lesson plan is needed for how it’s done, they can peek a few miles north to Madison Street.

Maybe the Sox’ best way to turn hope into reform is to hire away some Hawks people to help with the process.