As the Chicago White Sox were close to letting their 15-game division lead slip away in the final weeks of the regular season, I witnessed a bizarre phenomenon. While at a local sports bar (I was there merely for sociological research, of course), I noticed a large portion of the patrons cheering whenever something went wrong for our hometown Sox.

They must be fans of the Indians, I thought, or the Red Sox – one of the wild-card hopefuls who would benefit from a Sox loss. But they were not cheering for anyone. Instead, they were cheering against the Sox. And worse, they were Cubs fans.

Of all the ridiculous traditions in the world of sports, the vindictive rivalry between Cubs and White Sox fans has to be the stupidest.

To realize just how bold a declaration that is, consider for a moment some of the well-established customs sports have given us. In Detroit, if you’re a fan at a Red Wings hockey game, and a player scores three goals, what do you do? Cheer? Do the wave? Sing? Nope. You throw an octopus onto the ice. Nothing says victory quite like the cold, slimy feel of a sea creature.

By comparison, the standard hockey tradition – that of throwing your hat (the one you probably just spent $25 on in the fan shop) on the ice when a player gets three goals – almost seems to make sense. Almost.

In baseball, the Angels have a rally monkey. In golf, you have to wear the ugliest green sports jacket ever designed – if you win the Masters. In football, traditional rivals BYU and Utah play for something called the Beehive Boot; Notre Dame and USC play for the Jeweled Shillelagh.

As you can see, it takes a whole lot of stupid to out-stupid most sports traditions.

But Cubs and Sox fans going at it really takes the cake. And it’s not just Cubs fans who instigate it. I remember driving home from Game 6 of the 2003 NLCS – the “Bartman game” – after the Cubs had blown it, and hearing Sox fans on sports radio chattering as gleefully as if they’d heard Pudge Fisk had decided to don the gear for another year.

For the six games a year they play each other, Cubs and Sox fans can go at each other. But in situations like the 2003 playoffs or this year, when only one team has a shot, everyone should rally behind the team that’s still standing.

Let’s be honest: They both stink, at least traditionally. Among other disasters, the Cubs have the lost summer of 1969, fading to the Miracle Mets; the Sox have the White Flag Trade of 1997. And what about world championships? The Cubs’ last one was in 1908. The Sox last won the World Series in 1917.

The fans even fight about whose stadium is better. There’s not much argument that Wrigley’s ivy and giant manual scoreboard win over U.S. Cookiecutter in aesthetics. But try finding a bathroom. And the food at U.S. Cellular gets the nod over the soggy balloons that pass for hot dogs at Wrigley. But try finding somewhere to hang out after the game.

In a town as championship-starved as Chicago, we should rally behind any team within spitting distance of the playoffs.

I don’t care which “side” you grew up on, who your dad or grandpa cheer for, which stadium you like better or whose fans pay closer attention. If you’re a Chicago baseball fan, support Chicago baseball.

The playoffs are never a given in Chicago sports. Whether you wear Cubby blue or think real men wear black, you should rally behind the Sox, especially after their 14-2 drubbing of Boston Tuesday afternoon.

And if you need an outlet for all your displaced vitriol, save it for the team who really deserves it: the last place, winless Green Bay Packers.

Columns reflect the opinion of the author and not necessarily that of the Northern Star staff.