In 1970, Nancy Faust was hired by the White Sox to play the organ. Over time, she was relocated from the rowdy center field stands to behind home plate.

Her style was incredibly adaptive as she would respond to the crowds’ moods. In an interview in 2010, Faust stated that she believed she was the first to play rock and roll in a ballpark, straying away from an organist’s typical music choices that dated to the 1960s or earlier.

The crowds loved it. Nancy didn't use the organ simply to provide background music to the game, she used it to react to it, to score it like a film, to make the fans' experience even more sensory.

Other teams started sending their organist to Comiskey Park to watch how she did it in the hopes of adopting their own comedy-drama soundtrack. And thus, Nancy saved the organ from the edge of irrelevance and turned it into a pop-rock showpiece, cementing its place as a staple of baseball Americana.

At the beginning of her career, Faust was at first tasked with playing the song of each of the player’s birth state as the batter walked to plate. 

After a number of years, Nancy realized the state anthems were feeling a bit sleepy, so she started to play some songs people actually knew. She'd see a player's name or number and, as it's always been, a song would pop into her head.

She mostly changed up the song for each at-bat, but some players earned their own personal anthem. For Dick Allen's seemingly unlimited home run production in 1972 (he hit 37 for the White Sox that year), Nancy bestowed upon him the overture to "Jesus Christ Superstar."

This would become, as we know it today, walk-up music.

President Barack Obama wrote Nancy a letter, congratulating her on retirement that reads, in part: "Over the course of your career, you have demonstrated the ability of music to harness the energy of a crowd, capture the excitement of a moment and leave a lasting mark on our memories."

If you had a song that could reflect to others the energy you bring, showcase what makes you stand out, and echo the legacy you leave, what would it be?

Next time you start to doubt yourself or feel imposter syndrome, play it. 

Observe what happens next. 

Love,

Audrey