This week has been an eventful one for the Chicago White Sox in ways that have had nothing to do with their play on the field.

On Thursday, Cardinal Robert Prevost—a lifelong fan of the team who attended the 2005 World Series—was elected Pope Leo XIV. Five days later, eight of the team's former players banned in the "Black Sox" scandal were posthumously reinstated from their lifetime suspensions.

The Black Sox scandal is probably the most famous scandal in the history of North American sports—endlessly debated, dissected, revived and handed down from generation to generation. The reinstatement of its principals, accused of throwing the 1919 World Series, is a hugedeal. The problem is that the generation that heard the story from their parents—and mythologized it in all kinds of media—is dying off.

With this in mind, here's a look back at the Black Sox scandal—what caused it, what happened, who the eight men involved were, and how it entered American legend.

What were baseball and the world like when the Black Sox scandal took place?

In the early 20th century, baseball—not unlike gambling—was a vaguely disreputable profession. Salaries were small, and the men who played it, though famous, were overwhelmingly working-class. The appeal of tanking games was considerable. Over a dozen players were banned from baseball before the Black Sox; the Louisville Four and 1916 National League batting champion Hal Chase are among the most notable.

In 1919, baseball and the United States were in transition. World War I and the recent flu pandemic had affected every corner of the country. In a bid to make money as the economy recovered, baseball's leaders expanded the World Series from a best-of-seven to a best-of-nine affair.

Chicago won the American League pennant that year, besting Cleveland by 3.5 games. Its three best players by bWAR were pitcher Eddie Cicotte, outfielder "Shoeless" Joe Jackson and pitcher Lefty Williams—all of whom had helped the team win the World Series two years prior. Its manager was former two-way player Kid Gleason, and its owner was another ex-MLBer in Charlie Comiskey.

How did the scandal unfold?

First baseman Chick Gandil—the scandal's ringleader—met with Boston bookie Sport Sullivan in Sept. 1919, and the two put a plan in place to fix the World Series in exchange for $80,000 (about $1.4 million in April 2025). What happened next is hazy: accounts of Jackson and infielder Buck Weaver's involvement or lack thereof are disputed. The movement of gambling lines, however, was enough to raise alarms with the press even before the Series between the White Sox and Cincinnati Reds began.

Cicotte hit the first batter of Game 1, Reds second baseman Morrie Rath, in the back to indicate the tank was on. Cincinnati went on to win it five games to three, but the story does not end there.

Late in 1920, with Chicago again battling for the pennant (it lagged just behind Cleveland in a tight race), seven of the eight alleged conspirators were suspended by Comiskey himself amid a grand jury inquiry into the previous season's series. The punishments dealt the White Sox's pennant chances a death blow and opened the door for Cleveland to pull away—and eventually win its first title.

The summer of 1921 saw the "Black Sox" tried on nine counts of conspiracy to defraud. The proceedings gripped the nation and raised allegations of major underworld figures' involvement, most famously New York mob boss Arnold Rothstein. The players were eventually acquitted, but that did not stop Kennesaw Mountain Landis—the holder of a new position, "commissioner of baseball," created by the owners—from banning the eight players for life.

Who were the eight banned players and what happened to them?

The scandal touched players of all ability levels, from stars to reserves.

Eddie Cicotte, pitcher

Michigan native who was in his late 30s when he confessed his involvement to a grand jury (which he later recanted). Knuckleballer was one of the best hurlers of the World War I era, a league leader in bWAR ('17), wins ('17 and '19), and ERA ('17). Worked several jobs in the Detroit suburbs and died in 1969.

Happy Felsch, center fielder

Son of German immigrants who came up playing in Milwaukee. Had been enjoying a career year in '20—.338/.384/.540 with 14 home runs and 115 RBIs—when he was suspended. Played unsanctioned ball in the prairie west—Manitoba, Montana and Saskatchewan—and died in 1964.

Chick Gandil, first baseman

Minnesota-born son of Swiss immigrants known for his temperamental personality. A so-so first baseman whose play was in decline when he initiated the fix through his meeting with Sport Sullivan; his best years came with the Washington Senators earlier in the 1910s. Wrote an article discussing his involvement in the scandal for SI in 1956; died in 1970.

Shoeless Joe Jackson, left fielder

The most famous and controversial of all the Black Sox; a South Carolina native with very little formal education. Best years came with Cleveland in the early 1910s, but was still recognizable as (in modern terms) an All-Star-caliber player when he hit .375 in the '19 Series. The first of the Black Sox to die, doing so in 1951 after years spent playing and managing lower-level teams under pseudonyms.

Fred McMullin, third baseman

Kansas native raised in Los Angeles who debuted with the Detroit Tigers in 1914. Fringe player said to have overheard plans to throw the series and demanded to be involved, on pain of his teammates having their plan exposed. Held several jobs in California; died in 1952.

Swede Risberg, shortstop

San Francisco native who was just 24 when he agreed to assist Gandil. Glove-first shortstop slashed just .080/.233/.160 in the World Series. Played some lower-level baseball and died in 1975, when he was noted as the last living Black Sox.

Buck Weaver, third baseman and shortstop

Pennsylvania native who only ever played big-league ball for Chicago. Capable hitter (and one of baseball's most effective bunters) whose ban stemmed from him knowing about the White Sox's scheme and not reporting it. As was the case for Jackson, his potential reinstatement eventually became a cause celebre; he died in Chicago in '56.

Lefty Williams, pitcher

From Missouri; enjoyed a 23-11 career year in 1919 before the World Series. Lost three games in the Series, a record that was tied by George Frazier of the New York Yankees in 1981 but has not been broken. Played in several unsanctioned leagues, mostly in the Western United States; died in 1959.

What was the Black Sox's legacy?

Most immediately, the scandal shook public confidence in baseball and emboldened its owners to bring in the autocratic Landis as judge, jury, executioner and commissioner. Landis served as MLB's commissioner for 25 years, and his name—when not being cited to criticize his slowness on the issue of integration—remains a byword for iron-fisted rule in sports.

The scandal became something of a touchstone for America's Lost Generation—the demographic who, as young adults, had seen much of their spirit broken by World War I. In , narrator Nick Carraway—a veteran of that war, as author F. Scott Fitzgerald was—wonders how a Rothstein-indebted mobster character "could start to play with the faith of 50 million people."

As the 20th century wore on and baseball's history-industrial complex boomed, the scandal was canonized as North American sports' most significant. Two books ensured its immortality. In 1963, Eliot Asinof wrote , a deep dive into the scandal that compellingly argued for Weaver's innocence. In 1982, W.P. Kinsella wrote , a mystical fantasy about a farmer who builds a ballpark in his cornfield so that a ghostly Jackson may play on it. The books were turned into the acclaimed movies and , respectively.

With Jackson (and Cicotte) now candidates for the Hall of Fame, interest in the scandal only figures to grow. In some ways, the chain of events set off in Boston all those years ago has never really ended.