This season is Jerry Reinsdorf's perverse revenge against those who want him to sell the White Sox

In a better world, Chris Getz would do his public duty and resign as general manager of the White Sox. A resignation would serve as a warning to anyone with aspirations of working for the Sox: Don’t do what I did. Don’t seek employment here. Get yourself and your family as far away from 35th and Shields as possible. Block all calls from Jerry Reinsdorf!

In essence, Getz would be putting his own head on a pike in front of Guaranteed Rate Field as a deterrent to any naive, desperate or delusional executive who thinks the Sox GM job is a good one. Woe to anyone who dares tread here, it would say.

But that’s not how life works. People making a lot of money to do a job few get the privilege to do don’t quit. The traditional, All-American way of losing a job in professional sports is to get fired.

Unfortunately, getting fired is not how it works on the South Side. We know this because, for years, former team vice president Ken Williams and former general manager Rick Hahn seemed to have forever jobs, never mind the on-field results. When Reinsdorf, the chairman, shockingly let the pair go in August, it was as if the planet had fallen off its axis.

Forget about Getz and his awful performance for a moment. Let’s go all in on the seemingly impossible: Is there any way Reinsdorf can be fired? Asking for a million friends.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but owners almost never lose their jobs. There is nothing in the fine print of Major League Baseball rules that says an owner overseeing what might be the worst season in history can get kicked out. Nothing that says the longest losing streak in franchise history (16 and counting) is enough to give the owner the boot. Nothing that says a team on its way to breaking the modern-era record for most losses in a season (120, by the 1962 Mets) can belch out a noxious owner.

In the past, I’ve recommended that fans boycott Sox games as a way of punishing Reinsdorf. It doesn’t work. The Sox’ average attendance is a miserable 17,412 this season, fourth-worst in the majors. That’s down about 4,000 a game from last season, when they lost 101 games. So fans are doing their part to show displeasure. Yet there stands Reinsdorf, fiddling amid the flames.

Here’s some breaking news: I don’t think it’s about money anymore with Reinsdorf.

I’ve come to believe that what’s happening now is his perverse revenge against all the people who want him to sell the team. The more fans want him gone, the tighter his grip on the franchise. It's difficult to understand why an 88-year-man would want to hold on to such a poor product. It’s not about winning baseball games anymore. It’s not about getting a better stadium to make more money. It’s not about threatening to move the team to Nashville to force taxpayers to pay for a new building here.

It’s about unfurling a finger at the many people who are disgusted with what has happened to this once-proud franchise.

I’ve said in the past that Reinsdorf doesn’t care anymore. That was wrong. He cares about sticking it to people. It’s really the only explanation for his behavior.

I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for the next Reinsdorf press conference.

The Sox didn’t move ace Garrett Crotchet or the Ace-bandaged Luis Robert by Tuesday’s trade deadline. I was in the minority of people who thought they should hang onto Crochet as a reward to those fans still watching the team this season. But plenty of other people were irate that Getz didn’t get value for Crochet and Robert as the franchise muddles through whatever number rebuild this is. Two? Three? Ten? Infinity and beyond?

That fan anger bothers me because it suggests that some fans are doing exactly what Reinsdorf wants them to do. He doesn’t want people to pay attention to the sacrilege the Sox are committing on the field. He wants them to look ahead to the bright future that a teardown promises. He wants them to get excited about the young, purportedly talented players whom the Sox just acquired for pitcher Erick Fedde and outfielder Eloy Jimenez.

Fans want something to look forward to. Understandably so.

But this season is so bad, so historically awful, that eyes should not be averted. All attention should be put on what Reindorf and Getz have done here. I’d like to say it might make them go away. But we know better, don’t we?