CHICAGO — Michael and Cynthia Castaneda watched the deluge Tuesday morning at their Dyer, Ind., home and wondered how they were going to get ready for Pope Hat Night at White Sox Park.

“There was a tornado,” Cynthia said. “We have to move branches, clear out the sewers …”

“But she was determined to get these costumes,” Michael added.

The husband and wife were determined to dress like Pope Leo XIV for the Sox giveaway, and no tornado, plague of locusts or flooded viaduct was going to keep them away. They showed up Tuesday night wearing matching white cassocks, beige capelet and gold-and-white pope miter hats.

Sox fans waiting in line near the championship statue for the pope hats also waited to take their pictures with the Castanedas.

Michael was a dead ringer for Pope Leo, who, as everyone by now knows, was born in Chicago and became the world’s most famous White Sox fan. Sox marketing executive Michael Downey came up with the idea to give away pope hats, and a sellout crowd turned up to get one.

“I think the pope would appreciate it and he would see how many people love and respect him, and that we’re showing our love in Chicago for our Pope Leo,” Cynthia said.

Before they decided to come, Michael asked his wife if it would be disrespectful to the pope.

“And the answer is no,” she said. “I think he has a sense of humor and he would chuckle if he saw us, because he knows we’re only spreading his word.”

The Pope Hat Night took on a life of its own, and eclipsed the actual game between the first-place White Sox and the Cincinnati Reds, a rematch of the 1919 World Series that the Sox threw and went down in history as the Black Sox Scandal. The Sox didn’t win another World Series for 86 years, lacking the kind of divine intervention the Sox bring up so often now that their biggest fan is in the Vatican.

My late uncle John Sullivan was the founding pastor of the Spirit of God Fellowship in South Holland, and once gave a sermon at his church with the theme “Did Jesus Have a Sense of Humor?” The answer, he said, was “yes,” though you never see any examples in the Bible. Being spiritual is also being human, he said, and everyone likes a good knee-slapper once in a while.

The pope is no different, we can assume, because he’s from Chicago. There’s a reason why Second City alums dominate the comedy field. This town likes to laugh, and can laugh at itself.

I was hoping the Sox would hand Necco wafers in the press box for some pretend communion like the old days at St. Joseph’s in Homewood, but had to settle for the hot dogs and trail mix.

It was 1:40 a.m. at the Vatican when the Sox game began, so we’re not sure if Pope Leo was tuning into the game on his CHSN app and chuckling at the sight of 40,615 or so fans — and Sox players celebrating home runs in the dugout — wearing pope hats.

So we asked the nearest nun, Sister Mary Jo Sobieck, who formerly taught at Marian Catholic in Chicago Heights.

Sister Mary Jo, who threw out the first pitch, said Pope Leo would enjoy the hoopla.

“He would say it’s all about bringing people out,” she said. “It’s all about community and having people share things. You get people together and you don’t know where it leads. It can lead to friendship, conversation … I think he’d be game.”

Fittingly, former White Sox pitcher Donn “The Pope” Pall was invited to announce “play ball” before Tuesday’s game.

Sox marketing guru Brooks Boyer said he didn’t know if Pope Leo knew about the promotion, but added that people in the know say “he’s following everything that’s going on with the White Sox.” Presumably that meant he knew about manager Will Venable’s gaffe from Friday, and the fact that the Sox bounced back and took the series from the Cleveland Guardians.

Boyer said the Sox wanted to do something “super respectful” for their famous fan, and they ditched an idea for Pope Leo bobbleheads. Dressing up the mascot, Southpaw, in a pope outfit was deemed very respectful.

Did the Sox have to get permission from the Vatican?

“In the name, image and likeness world, we don’t use (Pope Leo’s name) on the hats,” Boyer said.

So a generic pope hat?

“Generic,” he said.

Boyer thought it was the biggest giveaway in Sox history, though he couldn’t be certain. Former owner Bill Veeck once gave out 30,000 Eskimo Pies at old Comiskey Park, with the joke being they were all given to one lucky fan.

It certainly was the most successful Sox promotion since Disco Demolition Night in 1979, linking the pope with Steve Dahl appropriately enough. I was fortunate enough to sit in the visiting dugout during the so-called “Disco Demolition riot” until being kicked out by a Detroit Tigers coach, who confiscated my bottle of whiskey. That promotion centered around blowing up disco records, not giving away pope hats.

It was a different time.

Boyer said it all started as a special promotion of 2,500 pope hats, but those tickets quickly sold out. They upped it to 3,000 hats, and then decided to let everyone have one — or 40,615 for a sellout, including the suites.

The original ticket purchasers were also given special Pope Leo Sox jerseys.

Will the Sox run the promotion back in 2027, if, God willing, there is a ’27 season?

“It’s certainly on the list,” Boyer said.

Someone suggested a pope-mobile bullpen cart.

Could there be a point of oversaturation? Last year brought us the Mass for the pope, and a mural of the pope at the ballpark. Maybe the Sox are using their association with the pope too much. Or maybe the pope is an everlasting gift from God to the Sox marketing department?

“Obviously we want to be respectful of the position,” Boyer said. “There was a lot of chatter about a pope bobblehead and things like that. We decided not to pursue something along that line. But the fact that the pope is certainly an identified White Sox fan, we’re certainly proud of it … it is certainly a point of pride for the Chicago White Sox and White Sox fans, and we’re not going to run from it.”

If the Sox get to the World Series, maybe the pope can come and enjoy the fun with everyone in their pope hats.

Hopefully Mike Vasil can give him a magic wand.

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