This team belongs to the city of Chicago, and I'm a temporary steward.
In the ancient corridors of the Vatican, a billionaire baseball executive and the world's most prominent pontiff shared a brief conversation about a game, a city, and a stadium not yet built. Justin Ishbia, limited owner of the Chicago White Sox, traveled to Rome to present Pope Leo XIV — a lifelong fan who once attended the 2005 World Series as a parish priest — with a championship jersey and an invitation to bless a future ballpark. The meeting was small in duration but large in implication, touching on the way sports franchises seek meaning, legitimacy, and global reach in an era when a pope's Instagram post can carry a team's hopes across continents. It is a story about patience and ambition, about men who hold visions for things they do not yet fully control.
- A struggling franchise with three consecutive 100-loss seasons is reaching for something transcendent — a papal blessing — to rekindle its identity and global appeal.
- Ishbia's Vatican visit creates a symbolic tension: he is courting the world's most powerful fan on behalf of a team he does not yet legally control.
- Jerry Reinsdorf, who has owned the Sox since 1981, retains full authority over every major decision until at least 2029, leaving Ishbia as an ambitious passenger without a steering wheel.
- The pope responded warmly — 'schedule permitting' — and the moment was immortalized on his Instagram, giving the White Sox a rare flash of international visibility.
- Ishbia is quietly laying groundwork for a future he may not inherit for nearly a decade: a new South Loop stadium, a global fanbase, and a franchise repositioned around the world's most famous baseball fan.
Justin Ishbia arrived at the Vatican on a Wednesday with a championship jersey and an audacious request. The limited owner of the Chicago White Sox had come to meet Pope Leo XIV — the world's most celebrated baseball fan — to present him with a signed 2005 World Series jersey and to ask whether he might one day throw the opening pitch at a ballpark that doesn't yet exist. The pope, who attended Game 1 of that same World Series as Father Robert Prevost, smiled and said yes, schedule permitting. A photo of the exchange appeared on the pope's Instagram. Two baseball fans, talking baseball for a couple of minutes.
But Ishbia's position is more complicated than the image suggests. Jerry Reinsdorf has owned the White Sox since 1981 and retains full control over every decision — payroll, roster, stadium — until somewhere between 2029 and 2034, when Ishbia can assume majority ownership. For now, Ishbia is a passenger with a vision. He was careful in Rome not to overstep: he deferred to Reinsdorf's authority and declined to commit to specific timelines, though he did promise that within the next 50 years, a new stadium will be built.
Ishbia prefers the word 'steward' over 'owner' — a deliberate framing that positions him as a temporary caretaker of something belonging to the city of Chicago. He sees the pope not merely as a fan but as a global asset, a man whose affection for the White Sox could spread the franchise's brand from South America to Southeast Asia. The team has already begun cultivating that relationship, holding a special Mass at their stadium and installing a mural honoring the pope's 2005 appearance.
Meanwhile, the Sox have lost 100 or more games in three straight seasons, and fans are restless for aggressive leadership. Ishbia says winning is his goal, but acknowledges he has no role in today's payroll decisions. He is building relationships in Rome and imagining stadiums that don't yet exist, waiting for his turn to stop being the passenger and become the pilot.
Justin Ishbia walked into the Vatican on a Wednesday afternoon in Rome with a gift wrapped in reverence and ambition. The limited owner of the Chicago White Sox had come to meet Pope Leo XIV, the world's most famous baseball fan, and to ask for something that sounds like it belongs in a different century: a blessing for a ballpark that doesn't yet exist.
Ishbia presented the pontiff with an autographed jersey from the 2005 World Series championship team—the last time the Sox won it all. He spoke about Chicago as a city of hope and opportunity, and he painted a picture of a new stadium rising somewhere in the South Loop, a house of joy for families and visitors. Then he made his pitch: Would the pope come throw out the first pitch on opening day? Would he bless the building?
The pope smiled and said yes, schedule permitting. It was a brief exchange, just a couple of minutes, but Ishbia left feeling he'd made something real. "It felt a little bit like two guys who are baseball fans, talking baseball for a couple minutes," he told the Tribune afterward. The moment was captured in a photo posted to the pope's Instagram account—a small gesture that carried enormous symbolic weight.
But here's the complication: Ishbia isn't actually in charge yet. Current owner Jerry Reinsdorf has run the White Sox since 1981, and he's not going anywhere soon. Under their agreement, Ishbia won't be able to take controlling interest until sometime between 2029 and 2034. Until then, every major decision—the payroll, the roster, the stadium plans, everything—belongs to Reinsdorf. Ishbia is a passenger with a vision, not the pilot.
When asked whether this Vatican meeting signals the Sox will definitely stay in Chicago, Ishbia was careful. He deferred to Reinsdorf's authority and wouldn't commit to a timeline. But he did say something definitive: within the next 50 years, when he's the steward of the franchise, there will be a new stadium. He couldn't say whether it would take four years or forty. The lease at their current home expires in 2029, but that's Reinsdorf's problem to solve, not his.
Ishbia, a billionaire who founded the private equity firm Shore Capital Partners, has been careful about the language he uses. He doesn't call himself the "future owner." He calls himself a "steward"—a temporary caretaker of something that belongs to the city. It's a distinction that matters to him. He sees the White Sox as an asset that could be leveraged globally, especially now that the pope—a man with influence over billions of people—has demonstrated genuine affection for the team. Ishbia wants to build that relationship, to make White Sox fandom something that spreads from Peru to Brazil to the Philippines, all because the pope wears the uniform.
The White Sox have already begun courting their most important fan. They held a special Mass at their stadium in June and installed a mural commemorating his attendance at Game 1 of the 2005 World Series, back when he was known as Father Robert Prevost. Ishbia's Vatican visit is the next chapter in that relationship—a personal investment in something that could reshape how the world sees a struggling franchise.
For now, though, Ishbia is waiting. He's waiting for Reinsdorf to decide when to hand over control. He's waiting for a new ballpark to materialize. He's waiting for his turn to be the steward instead of the passenger. The White Sox have lost 100 games or more in three straight seasons, and fans are hungry for the kind of owner who will spend aggressively in free agency instead of rebuilding every few years. Ishbia says his goal is to win, but he also says he has nothing to do with payroll decisions today. His turn will come. Until then, he's building relationships in Rome and dreaming about stadiums that don't yet exist.
Citações Notáveis
I'm hopeful you'd bless our stadium, and our stadium will be a place that creates joy and happiness and many championships for decades to come.— Justin Ishbia, speaking to Pope Leo XIV
Thank you, and I'd love to, schedule permitting.— Pope Leo XIV, responding to Ishbia's invitation
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter that the pope blessed this future stadium? The White Sox don't even have a new ballpark yet.
Because it's not really about the blessing. It's about Ishbia using the pope's global influence to rebrand the White Sox as something bigger than a struggling Chicago team. If the pope is a fan, then White Sox fandom becomes a global thing.
But Ishbia can't actually build the stadium or make major decisions for years. Doesn't that undermine what he's trying to do?
It does, which is why he was so careful in that interview. He's building the foundation now—the relationship, the vision—so that when he finally takes over, the groundwork is already laid. He's playing a long game.
What does Reinsdorf get out of keeping control for another five to ten years?
Time, mostly. He's been running the team for over 40 years. He's not in a rush to hand it over. The agreement gives him optionality—he can sell when he wants, and Ishbia has to wait. It's leverage.
Do you think the pope actually cares about the White Sox, or is this just a photo op?
The pope went to Game 1 of the 2005 World Series as a priest. That's not something you do for a photo op. He was there because he loves baseball. Ishbia recognized that and showed respect by going to Rome in person. That matters.