Still on the line, Santo's mind drifted to May of 1999. He remembered how well the day had started: Sunday brunch at Bernie's, courtesy of a fawning Cub fan who insisted on picking up the tab for his egg's benedict, side of sausage, and three bloody marys. "Fuckin' schmuck," he thought after shaking the fan's hand in thanks and heading for the door. "I earn at least five times what that guy does and he's buying me food? Asshole."
By the fifth inning that day with the Cubs leading the Mets, 7-1, Santo was downright giddy.
"Hey Pat, looks like we've got another fax," Santo said over the air to his radio partner Pat Hughes.
"All right, go ahead, Partner."
"This one comes to us from a Jack Mehoff," Santo said.
Hughes turned as Santo read the name. "Come again, Partner?"
"Jack Mehoff," Santo repeated. "Jack Mehoff in Lincoln Park."
"OK," Hughes answered, smiling at the joke that still eluded Santo.
"Jack Mehoff in Lincoln Park writes, 'Ron and Pat, you guys are the best, especially Ron. . .' "
"Looks like you've got another fan."
"'…you guys are the best, especially Ron.' And then Jack Mehoff continues, 'Ron, I still love to hear you gush after Sammy hits his home runs. Do you ever get tired of gushing over Sammy?'
"Well, Jack Mehoff in Lincoln Park, how could I ever get tired of that? Sammy made me gush 66 times last year, I hope he makes me gush at least 71 times this year!"
"That would be a record, wouldn't it?" Hughes deadpanned.
"You bet it would."
Laughter spread throughout the WGN production studio and even the television crew picked up on the practical joke. Fans with radios could be heard giggling in the stands and untold thousands within WGN's range laughed at Santo.
In the seventh inning, Santo announced another fax.
"It will be tough to top that last one," Hughes said.
"You're right, Pat. All of our listeners are great and these faxes are always very complimentary and insightful. I can't say enough about these Cub fans."
"Who's this one from?" Hughes said with a straight face.
"Well, I'm not quite sure how to pronounce it," Santo said slowly. "The first name is spelled I-L-I-C-H. So it's either EYE-LICH or EYE-LICK Cox, and it says he or she is from North Avenue. Just North Avenue. I guess that's anywhere on North Avenue."
"That sounds German," Hughes said, holding back laughter. "I'm pretty sure it's EYE-LICK."
"OK, EYE-LICK it is," Santo agreed. "OK, Ilich Cox on North Avenue asks, 'Ron, do you find it hard to swallow that the Cubs keeping drawing capacity crowds even though they're off to such a terrible start?'"
Santo paused, and then answered, "Well, Ilich Cox, it's like we said right before we read your fax, the Cubs' fans are the best in baseball, they're behind when you're winning and they're behind you when things aren't going so well. So no, to answer your question, I don't find that hard to swallow, I don't find it hard to swallow at all."
More laughter emerged from the grandstand. Radio and television technicians dropped their headsets and rolled off their chairs in laughter. Hughes fought back hysterical screams and then excused himself to the restroom between innings. The media picked up the story. ESPN, FoxSportsNet and the local Chicago stations all ran bleeped-out versions of Santo's broadcast. The Chicago Sun-Times published a back-page sidebar with the headline "Jack Who? Santo a victim of on-air prank." The perpetrator was identified as Felix Mandolin, a "freelance movie producer from Los Angeles visiting Chicago to scout locations."
"I've been here a week," the newspaper quoted Mandolin, "and I keep hearing this guy stroke himself on the air with these softball faxes. I couldn't believe it. I thought it was pretty self-serving. I was just having a little fun with him. I didn't think it would become that big of a deal."
Santo declined comment, but immediately began researching the professional career of Felix Mandolin.
Santo's mind returned to the phone call.
"Embarrassed?" Rupert the trainer asked.
"Just let the cubs do what they do best." Santo answered, and then hung up.