The big problem with me having a blog is that I have a hard time with the meta aspect of baseball. I can tell you all about my experiences at Busch III (and I'm just about to, in fact), but I have no interest in discussing any of the following:
- Whether or not Pujols will ever see another pitch
- Just how far the Cardinals can get with a lousy outfield
- How many games Marquis and Pujols will win singlehandedly
- Anything else vaguely intelligent
I bring this up because it struck me particularly on Sunday. As I was watching the game, keeping score and drinking a beer, I realized that I had no way of adding up the whole experience in a meaningful blog post. Stream-of-consciousness, I suppose, is what I'll have to go with for the forseeable future.
What I can talk about, on the other hand, are the moments that strike me as a Cardinals fan. For one thing, on three separate occasions (touring around the stadium beforehand, then twice in our seats), we ran into what you might call "hoosiers". You know, the people Cubs fans make fun of, and Cards fans from St. Louis (namely: me) sometimes dismiss, too. Anyway, on all three occasions the out-of-towners proved to be smart and passionate fans. I hope this doesn't sound condescending, like I was trying to say "Hey! They know their baseball, too! Isn't that shocking?" or something like that. I just meant that one of the great things about being a Cards fan is that I can make friends with people that I wouldn't otherwise cross paths with. And it happens a lot at Cardinal games I've attended, be it in St. Louis, New York, Washington or Kansas City. It was nice. Really points up the fact that sports is, after all, all about community. And we've got a good one.
Which isn't to say there weren't same big idiots around us. People! Stop standing up and leaving for the bathroom or the concession stands during the middle of the inning! Cheez. And don't get me started on the early leavers.
Pujols obviously wanted to celebrate the 28th anniversary of Bob Forsch's first no-hitter (and my birth) with his performance yesterday. Thanks for that, Albert. Brings my birthday Cardinal win streak to four. (Everybody else keeps track of this, too, right?)
In any case, we had fun wandering around the stadium, and I don't mind the new Busch. I quite liked it. Might as well like it; it's not going anywhere. And I'm sure it will only get better as time goes by, too.
I know that sounds less than enthusiastic, but I don't mean it to be. I guess the stadium stopped mattering to me the second Mulder threw the first pitch. What WAS important was that just as the last ballpark was, it's a nice place to watch a ballgame.
One quirk of our section (in the outfield boxes - the view is evident in the photo above) was that it was incredibly quiet (in terms of the sound system). We couldn't hear the at-bat intro songs, and we certainly couldn't hear Ernie Hays play the organ. At first, we thought it was a conscious choice to tone things down and keep Ernie on a leash, and lamented the loss of that organ song for a base hit ("Dah-dah-dah/Dah-dah-dah… "). By the time the seventh-inning stretch ran around, though, we had pieced it together that because the seats above us weren't finished, they hadn't even set up the speakers in our section yet. Ohhhhhhhh.
Still, though. It was certainly a nice change from Shea on Friday. Just fantastic to be home. The only bummer was that Bet and Zanner seem to feed off each other's beer apathy, and we didn't end up getting to check out Shannon's (or meet Fritz or bellyscratcher or Red Hot Mama). On the other hand, delicious birthday pie was waiting for us at home, so there was really no reason to waste time, after all.
Oh, and I look young enough to have gotten one of those t-shirts they were handing out at the entrance. (I have no qualms about getting free stuff for looking so young. Ask me sometime about the 13-and-under ski lift pass I got two years ago.) Unfortunately, it's got a photo of Encarnacion on it (along with Eck, Mulder and… I forget who else, the shirt's not handy to me right now).
So I'm not positive I'm going to like wearing it, but I've already established that I'll suffer for my team, as long as I can later ramble on endlessly about it in my blog.