Anaheim has its Rally Monkey, the mystical creature known as “Marcel” who jumps up and down on the Angel Stadium video scoreboard whenever the Angels are in need of a late-inning comeback.
Chicago has its Rally Mayor, the savvy politician known locally as “Richie” who wears white socks to work whenever the White Sox are in need of a postseason victory.
Though the Rally Monkey and our own Mayor Richard M. Daley may have little more in common than their devotion to baseball, both are hoping to spur on the home team in this year’s American League Championship Series.
May the best man, or monkey, win.
As most baseball fans know through constant re-tellings on Fox’s pregame shows, the Rally Monkey came into being during an Angels home game in 2000 when an employee working the scoreboard at the ballpark showed a video clip of a monkey jumping up and down from the movie “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.” The video was accompanied by the House of Pain song “Jump Around,” exhorting fans to cheer.
The Angels posted a comeback triumph, and a wacky tradition was born.
The Rally Monkey really took off in 2002 when the Angels posted 43 come-from-behind victories in the regular season and wound up winning their first World Series. By this time, Angels management had hired its own capuchin monkey, one named Kate, who had played “Marcel” in several episodes of “Friends.” They spliced her into clips from famous movie scenes like “Jurassic Park,” and audiences howled at the most absurd marketing stunt.
A magical moment occurred during Game 6 of the 2002 World Series, when Dusty Baker’s Giants were one victory away from winning a championship and had a 5-0 lead going into the seventh inning. Enter the Rally Monkey, and exit the Giants, who blew Game 6 and then lost Game 7 the next day.
The Rally Monkey’s magic didn’t work against the New York Yankees in Game 1 of the 2005 AL Division Series, despite being inserted into the movie “Jaws” and “National Lampoon’s Vacation,” where the monkey was spliced into the scene in which model Christie Brinkley pulls up to Chevy Chase’s car on the highway and tries to seduce him while his wife sleeps in the passenger’s seat. Instead of Brinkley, it’s the Rally Monkey in the sports car.
In Game 2, the Rally Monkey returned as late rock star Freddie Mercury in the iconic video of Queen’s classic ’80s song, “Bohemian Rhapsody.” The Angels came back and won the game, leaving the Rally Monkey with a .500 record in the 2005 postseason.
With the Yankees falling behind early in Game 5, the Rally Monkey wasn’t called upon, resting up until the ALCS.
The Sox are taking no chances. Hank Konerko, father of Sox slugger Paul Konerko, was once so sure that a souvenir rally monkey his wife bought was contributing to his son’s slump that he gave it a ritual beating, burning and trashing.
“I told my wife before the series, no rally monkeys this time,” Hank Konerko said before Game 1 at U.S. Cellular Field.
The Sox have a long history of mascots, both official ones like Ribbie and Roobarb and unofficial ones like Andy the Clown, whom comedian Bob Newhart once likened to an air-raid siren, “only louder.”
After 20 years of dressing as a clown and entertaining fans at old Comiskey Park, the Sox informed Andrew Rozdilsky on Aug. 27, 1981, that he no longer was allowed to attend games in his clown outfit.
The Sox were introducing their two furry mascots, Ribbie and Roobarb, trying to make Comiskey more “kid friendly.” After an uproar ignited by former WLS-TV sportscaster Al Lerner, the Sox relented and told Andy the Clown he could perform in the upper deck only.
After that compromise brought even more derision, the Sox let Andy the Clown go anywhere, granted he didn’t interact with the other mascots.
The Sox decided to “retire” Rozdilsky for good after the 1990 season, the last one in old Comiskey. Ribbie and Roobarb were short-lived, and the Sox recently introduced a new costumed mascot, Southpaw, who hasn’t created much of a stir.
Whether the Sox’s Rally Mayor can outperform the Angels’ Rally Monkey in the 2005 ALCS is a question most baseball prognosticators are reluctant to address.
At this stage of the series, it’s still too early to call.
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psullivan@tribune.com
