It started as a feel-good Black History Month post. It ended the way too many White Sox stories do these days: with national backlash and a familiar frustration. Only this time voiced not by fans but the greatest hitter in franchise history.
On Sunday, the White Sox shared a social media timeline highlighting the franchise’s “momentous firsts” in honor of Black History Month. The post recognized figures such as Minnie Miñoso, who broke the team’s color barrier in 1951; Al Smith, the franchise’s first Black All-Star in 1960; Carlos May, the first African American player selected by the White Sox in the first round of the amateur draft that same year; and Ken Williams, who became the first Black general manager in Chicago sports history in 2000. It also noted Jerry Manuel, James Baldwin, and Charles Johnson as part of MLB’s first all-Black mound visit later that season.
Frank Thomas appeared only in a brief aside — mentioned in the context of Dick Allen becoming the first Black player to win a league MVP in 1972, with Thomas later winning back-to-back MVP awards in 1993 and 1994. That limited mention was enough to irk the Hall of Fame slugger, who spent 16 of his 19 major-league seasons on the South Side.
Thomas replied to the post writing on X:
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“I guess the black player who made you rich over there and holds all your records is forgettable! Don’t worry I’m taking Receipts!”
Thomas may have a point. The graphic, intended to highlight franchise “firsts,” prominently featured current manager Will Venable as just the third African American manager in team history. It also used an image of Bo Jackson while noting how the White Sox logo transcended baseball to become a defining visual of 1990s hip-hop culture. The choices felt well intentioned, but to Thomas, telling.
This beef doesn’t appear to be about one social media post. The Big Hurt’s response read more like the release of years of pent-up frustration with the organization.
It’s no secret that Thomas’ tenure in Chicago ended badly. Ken Williams, who famously clashed with Thomas on his way out of the South Side, was mentioned three times in the team’s Black History Month post. Thomas appeared once, as a sidebar.
The tension dates back more than two decades. In 2002, Williams and Thomas butted heads after the White Sox cut Thomas’ pay, citing a “diminished skills” clause in his contract. It was only the tip of the iceberg in what became a deeply strained relationship.
In 2011, Thomas settled a lawsuit he had filed against doctors contracted by the White Sox, alleging a misdiagnosis of a fractured bone in his foot in 2004 led to a reinjury the following season. Limited to just 34 games in 2005, Thomas was forced to watch from the sidelines as the White Sox made their World Series run.
Even in that abbreviated season, he showed he could still produce, hitting 12 home runs. It didn’t matter. Williams showed him the door after the season.
After replacing Thomas with Jim Thome in a blockbuster move ahead of the 2006 season, the White Sox bought out Thomas’s $10 million player option for just $3.5 million. The business decision was one thing. The way it was handled was another.
Thomas was incensed that chairman Jerry Reinsdorf never called to tell him he wouldn’t be returning before the move was made, a basic courtesy, he believed, for the greatest player to ever put on a White Sox uniform.
Williams only poured fuel on the fire, publicly dismissing Thomas as an “idiot” and telling him to “stay out of White Sox business.”
“He’s the Oakland A’s problem,” Williams said at the time. “I don’t know why I’m talking about the guy. Play two or three games in a row before you start popping off.”
In the end, Thomas had the last laugh. He helped lead the A’s to the playoffs, blasting 39 home runs and finishing fourth in the AL MVP voting. The White Sox, meanwhile, won 90 games and still missed the postseason.
For a time, it appeared the wounds had healed. Thomas was named a franchise ambassador in 2010 and had his No. 35 retired in 2016. Yet the Big Hurt was conspicuously absent from last season’s 20-year reunion of the 2005 White Sox. Add in his response to the Black History Month graphic, and it’s clear those old scars never fully disappeared.
On the surface, Thomas’ reaction seemed over the top. The post was a broad tribute to Black History Month, and while some of his accomplishments were glossed over — and no photo of him appeared, he was, technically, included.
But the White Sox have forfeited the benefit of the doubt. Years of missteps have conditioned fans and former players alike to assume the worst. Throw in three consecutive 100-loss seasons and a five-time All-Star publicly blasting the organization, and the result is a perfect storm, one in which an otherwise routine social media post spirals into something much bigger.
