CHICAGO — As a proud member of the fraternity of Racing Sausages, I was dismayed to learn that Fox Sports opted to ignore the first-ever World Series Sausage Race on Friday at the former Miller Park in Milwaukee.

Guido, the Italian sausage, was the winner of the historic race, which can be viewed on YouTube and social media. The Polish won Saturday in Game 2, which also was not shown during the World Series telecast.

Why Fox decided to broadcast ads instead of the race is anyone’s guess, though we can only assume the decision was made for financial reasons. The ad rates reportedly run around $400,000 or more for a 30-second commercial, and the race takes about 30 seconds to complete.

But what’s more important — loads of money or the sheer enjoyment of the American people?

The Racing Sausages are a Brewers’ tradition dating back to 1993 at old County Stadium, and remain one of the best things about going across the Illinois border, along with a visit to the Mars Cheese Castle and a night at a supper club.

Fox had no problem using the sausages in pregame videos, and having them entertain analysts David Ortiz, Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez in their outfield perch. But when race time came, the sausages were nowhere to be seen unless you were at the ballpark watching them live.

It goes without saying the sausage race deserves to be seen by the millions of viewers tuning in to the World Series, even if it is sponsored by a sausage maker that doesn’t pay Fox a dime for publicity.

Sure, I’m admittedly biased after my performance as Brett the Bratwurst in 2003. I was invited by then-Brewers marketing executive Laurel Prieb to perform during a Cubs-Brewers day game in mid-May. It was an offer no one could refuse.

And it was there at Miller Park that I learned the other sausage racers were members of the grounds crew and obviously had much more experience. They also took it seriously, keeping track of their wins, and scoffed at amateurs like me who were only there to have fun. The encased meats racing business is serious stuff.

When I got off to a slow start trying to keep from falling, I meandered toward the Cubs dugout to say hi to manager Dusty Baker, who was standing at the rail. Baker wondered why a sausage racer wanted to talk to him and didn’t engage in conversation. I high-fived some Cubs fans and yelled at umpire Joe West on my way to a last-place finish and a lifetime of mocking.

The race was shown on the Cubs’ telecast, and broadcasters Chip Caray and Steve Stone dutifully described my sausage disaster to hundreds or thousands of viewers.

I wrote an article about the experience and submitted it to the Tribune sports editor, but he put the kibosh on it, noting that some of the higher-ups were upset about my performance. Not that I finished last, but that I had agreed to participate in the first place.

The race was sponsored by a sausage-making company, and my editor pointed to the Tribune’s code of ethics that prohibited reporters from endorsing products, saying some editors believed I implicitly endorsed the sausage maker by running as the Bratwurst. I was instructed to lay low while SausageGate blew over, and eventually it did.

A short time later, on July 9, 2003, Pittsburgh Pirates infielder Randall Simon hit the Italian sausage racer with a bat from the dugout in a prank that went wrong. He was arrested for disorderly conduct and eventually had to pay a $432 fine.

By coincidence, the Cubs traded for Simon later that summer, citing the need for a strong bat off the bench. In his first trip back to the scene of the crime in September, Simon watched the race from the dugout rail, surrounded by teammates and Baker, who carried a bat in his hand in case one of the sausages wanted revenge.

“We were just messing with him,” Baker said. “I told him that (team President) Andy MacPhail told me to take all weapons away from him during the sausage race. Some of the guys were holding Randall back.”

Simon didn’t avoid the media or try to downplay his moment in sausage racing history.

“Why do that?” he told me that day. “It’s not like I tried to hurt somebody. … I know what type of personality I have, and all my teammates do too. That’s the most important thing for me.”

Showing he had no hard feelings, Simon purchased 330 Italian sausages the next day and gave them out free to fans at Miller Park.

“I wanted the fans here to know that I don’t have anything against Milwaukee,” Simon said. “But everyone was from Chicago anyway.”

The next year, the young woman in the Italian sausage costume Simon hit was treated to a free week in Curaçao, Simon’s home country. The island’s tourism bureau arranged for the trip, and she reportedly swam with dolphins. All’s well that ends well.

Sausage race historians know much more than I do about the race and its place in Wisconsin sports history. All I know is everyone loves it, no matter what team they root for.

If the World Series returns to Milwaukee for Game 6, hopefully someone can convince Fox Sports to change course and show the race live. Maybe they can even bring back Randall Simon to throw out the ceremonial first sausage.

For the sake of sausages everywhere, do the right thing.

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