The 250 Pound Marathon Runner

One year ago at this time of year, I was not proud of what I saw when looking in a mirror and even less proud of what I saw on the scale when I looked down.  I could say that I have suffered controlling my weight, but to be honest, that is true in the way that would not make anyone feel sorry for me.  See I had that opposite problem with weight that does not get as much play on late night infomercials.  I needed to gain it.  I was a baseball and basketball player all throughout high school and for a guy standing at 6'8, the 180 pounds I was carrying around of skin and bone was far from effective.  Luckily for me I was able to gain some weight, but when I finished playing baseball in college I was a semi-athletic 220 pounds (let's face it, I can only give myself semi status after choosing to be a pitcher instead of playing basketball some more).

Then came the end of my athletic career, and I needed a break.  My elbow was killing me from a partially torn UCL with no Tommy John to bail out my failing fastball, my back was sore from bending over so many times to finish pitches as a 6'8 ogre, and my fingers were blistered from the constant diet of sliders I was asked to throw.  It is safe to say that I needed a break from not only baseball, but exercise in general.  I was burned out, or so I thought.  Little did I know that the weight I could not put on while lifting weights, eating lots of healthy foods, and mixing creatine and protein shakes that tasted like I was trying to make ground up chalk not taste terrible, was more than happy appear if I stopped.  In fact, 30 pounds was amazingly easy to gain with a perfectly rationed diet of pizza, beer, and the McDonald's dollar menu.

To look at the scale after a thanksgiving feast for the ages, I not only had to pull my stomach out of the way to read the numbers on that poor over-matched piece of plastic under my feet, but I marveled in the sight of the 250 number staring back at me.  My once thin, still only semi-athletic frame was on a one way street to the unhappy destination of obesity.  Although my tall body hid the weight pretty well, a 30 pound weight gain in only 5 months is definitely not healthy, so I decided to do something about it.

While I was able to successfully quit throwing a baseball for almost an entire year, stifling the competitive juices that had once flown when it was time to throw was an entirely different story.  I spent the majority of my life trying to push myself as hard and as far as my semi-athletic body would take me.  After taking a very enjoyable although extremely unhealthy 6 months of gluttony, I found the way that I would lose the weight and feed the inner competitor that would not be buried in the layers of fast food I tried to stifle it with.  I had the perfect plan to both lose the weight I had gained and push myself to new heights: I was going to run a marathon.

How hard could it be right?  I have run before.  There is no particular skill necessary to keep my feet moving forward.  I had thrown over 100 pitches before with an elbow whose throbbing was only dulled by the near dangerous doses of ibuprofen I had flowing through my body.  Running a marathon could not be any worse right?  It is amazing how stupid I can be.

Last year was my debut, the 250 pound marathon runner put on his Asics running shoes and took to the streets of St. Louis ready to take on the world.  I had run for months in preparation for that day, consistently putting my grades in danger of failure as I spent hours that should have been devoted to studying on 20 mile runs through Forest Park.  I could almost close my eyes and see every inch of the track that makes its way around the park.  I told myself I was ready.  Once again it was a game day, and I was ready.  I cruised at the beginning, feeling the exhilaration of running with thousands of others.  My iPod was turned up high with pump-up music and I cruised around the Budweiser Brewery.  I even laughed with those around me as I secretly thought I was going to do better than I thought.

And then I hit the first hill, and it was brutal.  Before long, I was cursing at women twice my age and half my height as they cruised by me.  My legs were reduced to useless balls of cramping muscles.  I finished that first marathon, although it was not a source of pride.  I walked more than half of it, experienced my first exercise induced vomit, and crossed the finish line a full hour later than I had once believed possible based on my pace for a 20 mile run.  I was humiliated and beaten.  Nothing would get me to ever run again, I told myself.

That is, I would never run again until this year.  I am back at it this year, although this time I want to avoid wilting half way through.  My semi-athletic body is still far from small, but the idea that a 250 pound man who runs like a deer if you cut off one and a half of its legs is not an impossible one I hope.  I have no doubt that there are going to be some fun and some miserable moments ahead of me as I try to squeeze as many miles out of my clown shoe sized feet as I can.  It should be an interesting experience this time around.  My goal is to literally shave an hour off my time.  Yes, I do know how ridiculous this sounds, but then again, so is the thought of a 250 pound marathon runner.

How Important Was Dave Duncan?

The decade of the 2000's was among the best in the history of the St. Louis Cardinals.  The team went to the playoffs in 7 of the 10 years during that decade, made the World Series twice, and won the World Series in 2006.  Since 1996, the first year in which the Tony Larussa and Dave Duncan combination came to St. Louis to be manager and pitching coach, the Cardinals have been to the playoffs 9 times, and after this last season’s magical run, the team has won 2 World Series Championships.  It has been the greatest stretch for the Cardinals since the 1940's and it is difficult to not look back at the past era with at least some nostalgia.  

A seemingly unending stream of talent has come to St. Louis to play for the Cardinals during that time including the second best hitter in the franchise's history in Albert Pujols, the manager with the most wins in the history of the Cardinals in Tony Larussa, and only the second Cy Young award winner in the Cardinals history in Chris Carpenter.  The 2000’s Cardinals had at least one Gold Glove Award Winner at every position as well as a Silver Slugger at every spot other than second base and catcher.  With all these accolades coming the Cardinals way, it is impossible to lay claim to one person being more responsible than any others.  So many members of this amazingly successful team are on their ways out the door, but a strong case can be made for the loss of Dave Duncan, their pitching coach, to be their most costly loss.  

Dave Duncan has been such a quiet member of the coaching staff that you would have to listen very closely to hear him say anything.  It is irresponsible to say that Dave Duncan is the sole reason behind the success of the pitchers who found their groove in St. Louis during his time here, and it is an even further stretch to say that the Cardinals pitching has been the sole reason for their success.  It is impossible not to notice a pattern of successful veteran pitchers ever since Dave Duncan found his way to the Cardinals.  Here are 10 of the top pitchers that Dave Duncan has worked magic with:  

10.  Jason Simontacchi: A background that includes the Frontier League and Italian Professional League is not the most well-worn path to the Major Leagues, but from 2002-2004, Simontacchi contributed to the Cardinals both out of the bullpen and in the starting rotation.  In 2002 especially, reeling from the loss of the team's ace Darryl Kile, the Cardinals found help from a 28 year old career minor league pitcher.  With the guidance of Duncan, Simontacchi went 11 and 5 that year and during his 4 seasons with the Cardinals he had a record of 20 and 10.  After shoulder issues derailed him in 2004, Simontacchi made his way back to the major leagues to make 13 more starts with the Washington Nationals.  A 6-7 record and ERA over 6.00 ended his career, and although it ended unceremoniously, his time with the Cardinals and Dave Duncan must be the highlight of his Major League career.

9.  Garrett Stephenson:  Before he got to St. Louis, Stephenson was a .500 pitcher who had been traded twice after being drafted in the 18th round.  In his first two seasons with the Cardinals he went 22-12 including a magical 16-9 season in 2000 in which he helped the team make their way back to the playoffs.  While he was never the same after undergoing Tommy John reconstructive surgery, he was just another name in the long list of questionably talented pitchers who were able to find success under the tutelage of Dave Duncan. 

8.  Andy Benes:  While Benes does not qualify as a questionable talent who found success with Dave Duncan, he may be one of Duncan's more impressive success stories.  During his second round of duty with the team, Benes was near the end of his career when he received a new split-fingered fastball learned from Chuck Finley and some work from Dave Duncan.  Benes was able to coax just enough wins out of his right arm and damaged right knee to help the Cardinals to the playoffs in 2002.  While his 52-37 record with the Cardinals should speak for itself, it was not until being forced to recreate himself on the fly during his final season that the true magic of Dave Duncan could be really seen.

7.  Jeff Weaver:  Jeff Weaver was only a Cardinal for part of one season, but it sure was a memorable one.  After his own brother knocked him out of the Angels rotation, he was traded to the Cardinals, and at the time, Weaver was floundering.  He was 3-10 on the year in the American League before being traded to a Cardinals team that was in the middle of its own underachieving season.  The Cardinals limped to 83 wins that year, but then caught fire.  Weaver won a game in every round of the playoffs including the clinching game 5 of the World Series.  Weaver cashed in on these successes for 3 more years in the major leagues but made frequent trips to the minor leagues and the bullpen.  He would never be the same pitcher after leaving St. Louis.

6.  Darryl Kile:  Before the 2000 season, Darryl Kile was best known as a poster boy for the dangers of Coors Field in Colorado.  Kile went to St. Louis at the perfect time.  After control problems and the loss of bite on his trademarked curveball, Dave Duncan and St. Louis proved to be the calming influence that he needed.  Two years after leading the league in losses and the year after leading the league in earned runs allowed, Kile won 20 games in his first season with the Cardinals.  He followed this up with 16 wins the next season before his tragic death in 2002.  While for Kile the talent was definitely there, he caught fire as a Cardinal, posting a .631 winning percentage compared to the under .500 winning percentage before getting to St. Louis.

5.  Joel Pineiro:  Piniero may be the poster boy for the type of pitcher Duncan is famous for working with.  A pitcher with a good sinker about half way through his career and willing to be coached, Duncan must have jumped at the opportunity to work with Pineiro.  In his 2 and a half years with the Cardinals, Pineiro posted the lowest ERA and highest winning percentage that he had with any other team in his career.  A part of this could be attributed to his pitching against weaker National League line-ups, but it is difficult not to notice that the Pineiro and Duncan combination was a perfect match for both men.

4.  Jeff Suppan:  It is difficult to think of a pitcher who benefitted more financially from Dave Duncan and the Cardinals situation than Jeff Suppan.  After spending 3 years with the Cardinals in which he posted career highs in wins twice and lows in ERA, Suppan cashed in with a 40 million dollar contract for 4 years with the Milwaukee Brewers.  During his time up north, Suppan had a record of 29-36 and an ERA over 5.00.  Not once did he post a winning record with the team, a stark difference between the 47-32 record and 3.94 ERA with the Cardinals.  And who could forget an NLCS MVP award in 2006, leading to the Cardinals a World Series that it would eventually walk away with as champions. 

3.  Woody Williams:  In 2001, the Cardinals traded Ray Lankford away for Woody Williams.  At the time, the Cardinals were 7.5 games back and would drop as far back as 8 games before he could make his first Cardinals start.  The Cardinals ended up tied for the NL Central Championship at the end of the year after among other things, a 7-1 record down the stretch by Williams.  Williams, a career journeyman with a sub .500 career record caught fire with the help of Dave Duncan.  He won 18 games in 2003 and won games in both the NLDS and NLCS in 2004, helping the Cardinals make it to the World Series after a nearly 20 year dry spell.  All told, Williams ended with a win percentage of .672 with the Cardinals and Dave Duncan compared to a .481 win percentage in the rest of his career.

2.  Chris Carpenter:  It would be easy to say that Chris Carpenter has had the talent to be a big game pitcher and that Dave Duncan lucked out to be able to work with Carpenter.  While these statements may be true, the fact that Carpenter took off in St. Louis to such great heights is a testament to not only his own talent, but the coaching and help he was given by those around him.  A talented but underperforming young pitcher with a losing record is not a new idea in baseball, but without the right guidance, as many of these stories end in tragedy as end in multiple Cy Young type seasons.  Carpenter has finished 1^st and 2^nd in the Cy Young award voting, won 2 World Series Championships, and although his career has had multiple injury speed bumps, Carpenter has taken his place in Cardinals history as one of the greatest pitchers to wear the uniform.

1.  Kent Bottenfield:  While an argument for Kent Bottenfield being a greater Duncan success story than Carpenter is a stretch, what the Cardinals gained from Duncan’s greatest turnaround is impossible to ignore.  Somehow at the age of 30, a pitcher with a career ERA of 4.54 and sub .500 record without even a track record for starting caught fire in 1999 under the tutelage of Dave Duncan.  That year he won 18 games and became the perfect sell high trade bait.  At the point, the Cardinals had not made the playoffs since 1996 and had not been able to finish higher than 3^rd place since then.  After his breakout season, Bottenfield was traded along with Adam Kennedy to the Angels for a center fielder by the name of Jim Edmonds.  To say the rest is history could suffice, but the reality is that without Edmonds, it is impossible to imagine the 2000’s Cardinals without a Gold Glove and MVP caliber player in center field.  He had countless memorable moments such as the 2004 NLCS where his game winning homerun in game 6 and game saving catch in game 7 put the Cardinals into the World Series.  After 8 amazing years with the Cardinals, Edmonds was traded away and finished his career making stops around the National League.  The real amazing story in this comes from who Edmonds was then traded for: a young third baseman that had never played a major league game.  David Freese has still yet to play a full, injury free season, but he was able to contribute to one of the most magical seasons in St. Louis sports history.  Along with taking home NLCS and World Series MVP Awards, Freese hit a homerun and a triple in Game 6 that still sends chills down my spine.  Yes, it has been an amazing 16 years to be a Cardinal’s fan, and looking back at things, it is easy to wonder if any of this would have been possible without Dave Duncan.

Should The Rams Trade Steven Jackson?

As a St. Louis Rams fan, this season was rough to say the least.  After beginning a season with such high hopes, it took only a few games before it was necessary to pull out the paper bag with eye holes cut out to hide my face so that no one would know it was me watching the games.  I found myself so embarrassed to be rooting for such a pathetic team that I sat with my finger on the channel button of the TV remote, ready to change channels when watching games alone in my living room.  I was afraid of someone walking in to see where my loyalties lie in the NFL.  While I have been humiliated to associate myself with the St. Louis Rams, I had no problems donning a Steven Jackson jersey with pride every Sunday.  In a year that Jackson further solidified himself as an all-time great running back by rushing for his seventh consecutive 1000 yard season, the Rams put together a season where they finished a neck injury to Peyton Manning away from earning the number 1 draft pick for the second time in three years.  With this track record of futility, I wonder if the Rams would ever consider trading their franchise leading rusher in hopes of starting over?

The Argument Against:

The best option for running back is still Steven Jackson.  Because of Jackson's ability to handle so much of the workload, the Rams have gotten by with retread or rookie back-ups.  Carnell (Cadillac) Williams, although injury prone, represented the highest upside back-up running back the Rams have had in recent memory, and he managed only 87 carries on the season despite an early injury which caused Jackson to miss all of one game and the better parts of two others.  There is no doubt that the loss of Steven Jackson would represent a downgrade for an offense that is already struggling at the skill positions enough to earn the second overall draft choice.  Would losing the best offensive weapon the team had really be a solution to the future of a franchise that is in desperate need for some success?  Especially with the weight of a possible relocation back to Los Angles bearing down on them, the Rams would like to win and win now.

To take pressure off the Sam Bradford.  After two seasons as the Rams quarterback, Sam Bradford has experienced two offensive coordinators with a third on the way next year.  He was the sixth most sacked quarterback in the league despite sitting out six games with an ankle injury.  It is not going out on a limb to say that Sam Bradford has had a rough start to his career.  It would be easy to say that given another couple years, the immense talent that earned him a number one overall draft choice will become evident, but Sam Bradford would be far from the first top picked quarterback to not live up to the hype.  To get rid of his best offensive weapon at this point in Bradford's career would put even more pressure on an already bruised ego.

Steven Jackson is building a Hall of Fame like Resume.  While the NFL is full of general managers who believe nothing in nostalgia, the Rams need a face of their franchise, especially now.  While Sam Bradford has the potential to be this face, Steven Jackson still plays a large part in selling tickets.  Running backs like Jackson do not come around often, and to trade a potential Hall of Famer in the middle of his streak of 1000 yard seasons could easily be the mistake that makes already disappointed Rams fans care even less about their team.  That would be a tough sell for any general manager.

The Argument For:

The shelf life of an NFL running back is short.  While this is a truth that has not been felt by St. Louis football fans, it is the brutal truth of the NFL.  Since 1999, the Rams have had a a pro bowl representative running back 7 times.  The Rams have been able to transition seamlessly between a Hall of Fame running back in Marshall Faulk to Steven Jackson.  The terrible reality is that this is the exception and definitely not the rule.  This being said, to hope that a running back entering his 9th season could maintain a high level of play is ludicrous.  Marshall Faulk, LaDainian Tomlinson, Eric Dickerson, and countless other running backs on the list of all-time rushers never ran for 1000 yards after their 8th seasons.  For the Rams to believe that Steven Jackson will follow the career arc of Emmitt Smith instead of so many other running backs who have faltered as their bodies took the beatings of the NFL is just not realistic.  To look at the future of the Rams is to look at a situation that is most likely more than one year away from contending in a weak division and even further away from being competitive in any playoff match-ups.  The reality of the situation is that Jackson will most likely not be an effective number one rusher by the time the Rams have a good enough team to fully benefit from having him in that role.

A trade could get draft picks to help build a team around Sam Bradford.  Trading Steven Jackson in the years to come will only get less return for his services.  Every season that Jackson spends trying to run through defensive players who are keying on him is another season that a potential career threatening injury could be just around the corner.  As a team, the Rams a full of holes.  With an often porous offensive line, a complete lack of play-making wide receivers unless Brandon Lloyd decides to stick around, and a defensive secondary that saw far too many practice team members suite up, the Rams are in need of so much more than one talented running back.  The market for a guy like Jackson may not be overwhelming, but for a team that is in need of young talent, this would be their best asset to trade in hopes of rebuilding with even more young talent.

Steven Jackson deserves to play for a winning team.  After watching Jackson run against the 49ers, I could not help but feel sorry for the guy.  I have never before seen a man get 1.9 yards per carry and be amazed at how talented he had to have been to get that much.  Too many times, the lack of play-makers at the wide receiver position lead to Jackson getting the football only seconds before he needed to lower his muscular shoulders in hopes of getting back to the line of scrimmage with defensive lineman hanging on him.  Between that and decisions by an offensive coordinator to look away from Jackson with his team within five yards of the end-zone, this had to be a frustrating season for the Ram's running back.  In short, this is a guy who deserves better.  Is their any doubt that if he played on a team that could get a lead, Jackson would be looking at a certain Hall of Fame career?  Imagine if he played for a team that had a quarter back and an offensive line that could stay productive and healthy.  What if he had played for a team like the Packers, Patriots, or Steelers, a team with other offensive weapons who could use a big bruising running back without having an defense keying on him on every play?  Jackson has done just about all he can for the Rams for the past eight years.  He has given up the best years of the prime of his life to play for a franchise which has not repaid him with a good team consistently enough.  It saddens me to see someone with so much talent wasting away on a team like the Rams.

What Albert Pujols Taught Me About the 5 Stages of Grief

There are certain moments that stick with us for the rest of our lives.  Some of the time we recognize these moments as we are living in them but even more of these moments come and go without being registered consciously.  My first memories of Albert Pujols fall in the latter category.  I can remember running home from school that day and for good reason.  April 2, 2001 brought with it the joy and breathless anticipation of opening day.  Not unlike every other year, this date was the true marker for the beginning of summer for baseball fans everywhere.  It was a day that held the promise that warm days were only right around the corner. 

On this day, the name Pujols meant very little to me.  In fact, I did a double take when I saw such an odd name in the starting line-up.  Who was this guy?  Where did he come from?  How the hell do I pronounce that “J” in the middle of his name?  It did not take long before I figured out not only how to pronounce his last name, but also that the player I was watching mature was one of the most consistent and talented players the game had ever seen.  Over the years, my breath was taken away more than once by his heroics.  He would come up again and again with big hits against pitchers that I otherwise believed to be untouchable, reinforcing the feeling that the Cardinals always had a chance because they had the best player on the field.

On December 8, 2011, this relationship which had inspired Cardinal's fans to cheer louder and with more excitement than for any player not named Stan Musial was over.  Pujols had made the decision to take his Babe Ruth sized bat and Hank Aaron like consistency to the west coast.  At least I will not have to go through the pain of seeing him play for another National League team, but the feelings of betrayal still linger almost a month later.  It has taken me about this long to get through the 5 stages of grief on my path to acceptance that Pujols is gone.  I know it sounds odd to talk about watching a baseball player leave using these theories, but for someone who had not seen his 15^th birthday when Albert Pujols began his run of brilliance, it somehow feels appropriate. 

Denial: 

As a student in graduate school during finals week, I had stayed up the entire night before the Pujols defection in order to study for my first final exam of the year.  I studied, yes, but I would be lying if I claimed that the test the next day held even close to my full attention.  The Pujols contract was about to be settled, and my night was filled with optimism that I would be pleased with the outcome.  At the time I had heard nothing about the dark horse from the west coast that was speaking in my childhood hero's ear, luring him away from a fan base that would appreciate him more than anywhere else possibly could.  I somehow picked the exact moment that the signing was announced to turn off the computer that was feeding me updates with my constant, almost obsessive-compulsive clicking of my web browser's refresh button.  After checking only seconds before turning off the computer, my phone exploded with texts spilling the news of El Hombre’s decision to leave.  There was no part of me that wanted to believe this sad truth.  I waited the rest of the morning, constantly checking my phone in hopes that Bud Selig would jump in as if it were the NBA and declare the deal void because of what it would do to my hopes and dreams.  Unfortunately, that text never came.

Anger:

It did not take long for the second wave of emotions to hit.  To put it frankly… it took only seconds before I was flat-out ticked off.  I was angry at the Cardinals, the Angels, Pujols, and anyone else who I could claim had something to do with the events that had transpired.  All too quickly, I found myself wishing for the Angels to end up in last place and for Albert to tell the world that he is actually 38 years old but more than willing still to take the money.  Some of this anger will always be there.  Why did the Cardinals not offer Albert more money two years ago before the likes of Ryan Howard was so vastly overpaid?  Why wouldn’t Albert sign for less money to stay here in St. Louis where he had never heard the faintest whisper of a boo?  How much money could it possibly take to leave a fan base that had loved you unconditionally from the second you made your major league debut?  More questions than answers only caused my anger to grow.

Bargaining: 

Not long after Pujols signed, I realized that the Cardinal’s would now have $20+ million to spend, and there had to be all kinds of possibilities right?  I wasted little time to look at the free agent pools for not only this year, but for the next few off seasons to come.  It didn’t take long to realize what I had feared all along: there is only one Albert Pujols…

Depression:

 The feeling of sadness has been the longest lasting.  For all the reasons I was angry, the realization that there was nothing that could be done has hit home.  I will never again see Albert Pujols wearing the correct shade of red in Busch Stadium for as long as I live.  It is a tough pill to swallow.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this sadness was not because I believed the Cardinals would now somehow be doomed to fail, or even that I would not be able to see Pujols when I go to a game next season.  The real sadness came with the realization that Pujols would no longer be ours.  He will never again be looked at as the face of the Cardinals franchise, and that above all else, is why the loss of Albert Pujols has been so difficult.

I am a man in my mid-20’s.  I have never seen Stan Musial play in person.  The closest I have or will ever come is watching old highlight tapes from nearly the birth of the video camera, and yet I have been told stories about The Man for as long as I can remember.  As the hero of my father, I have consumed myself with reading anything I could get my hands on about Stan Musial.  In my bedroom, I can still see a picture of me standing next to Musial’s locker as it was set up at the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.  Through my father, Stan Musial had become my hero without ever seeing an at-bat.  This season I was fortunate enough to be in the stadium for playoff games in both the NLCS and World Series, and I looked around with tears in my eyes as Stan made his triumphant ride to home plate to the music from The Natural and in the midst of more than 45,000 fans who were still mystified by the presence of The Man.  To feel that much emotion for a man who was a generation into his retirement by the time I was born cannot be common.  This is how it is in St. Louis, though.  At least this is how it has been for me. 

Watching Pujols walk out the door, it was impossible not to think about how I had lost this special relationship with my future children as my father had with.  For 50 million dollars, Pujols traded in the opportunity to one day be carted out well past the time when he could hit a baseball and still with more money than he could have spent in ten lifetimes.  In whatever version of Busch Stadium the Cardinals franchise will be playing in at that time, fans with grandparents who had seen him take his first at-bats would stand and applaud the man for the legend he had become.  It is not hard to imagine a stadium filled with the red, looking down at a frail old Albert Pujols as he is helped out of a cart saying, “There goes The Man.  There goes the greatest player who ever lived.  He is St. Louis, and St. Louis will always be Albert Pujols.”  Through tears they would chant his name as I was yelling for Stan Musial.  

Acceptance: 

Albert Pujols deserved the contract that he was given, and I have no doubt he will be loved in Anaheim/Los Angeles/California/whatever other title will be put in front of Angels over his next 10 years there.  I truly hope he thrives there.  My ill-wishes have faded, and the acceptance of a lineup without its rock batting third has set in.  I have not yet decided how I will be able to tell my children and their children about Albert Pujols.  In time I suspect his play on the field and multiple championships will dominate the conversation more than his time spent on the west coast, but he will never fulfill the promise that he once had to become my generation's Stan Musial.  I am proud to say that I saw Albert Pujols playing at his best.  It is my children who have been robbed of a hero.

Welcome to St. Louis

As a student in his mid-20's (insert TommyBoy joke here), I jumped at the opportunity to move to the city of St. Louis, MO.  The official reason for moving here was to finish my last three years of education before it would be necessary for me to come up with another excuse to put off getting a real job.  To be completely honest, the prestigious school options were not the only reasons I chose to continue my education in the “Gateway To The West.”  I have been a sports fan for my entire life and spent the majority of my formative years with some kind of ball, bat, stick, or other piece of sporting equipment in my hands.  It was only in the last three years that I had to call it quits on my own athletic career after playing four years of Division I baseball.  After having the thrill of pitching in NCAA Regional, the transition to accepting my role as a fan was not easy, but it is one that has been made easier by my move to a new setting.

St Louis is a city that I visited countless times growing up.  While I did not lived within the city limits, I have made frequent trips to go to Cardinals games or to meet with family.  My first memories of a professional sporting event come from my father locking the keys in our family minivan outside an ambush game in the then Kiel Center.  I did not have to live in St. Louis to grow up wearing a Blues winter jacket, or state that my most influential baseball player for me was Bob Gibson in a team program.  I even considered myself a Rams fan, although with the exception of a few years, this had to be hidden as much as possible to escape the ridicule that comes with rooting for one of the least successful franchises in sports.

The city of St. Louis is a pleasant reminder that the present does not have to exist in isolation from the past.  At least as far as sports are concerned, St. Louis has never fully embraced the present.  Baseball is still the nation's pastime here in St. Louis.  The NFL has taken over so much of the national media coverage that stories of two coaches fighting on the sidelines of a Lions and 49ers game can be the leading story in sportscenter on the day after the completion of the NLCS.  St. Louis would hold all other news stories for the thoughts of Stan Musial if he had something to say.  The Rams are a nice distraction for a while during the winter months, but thoughts of how the Cardinals will do during the upcoming season would never be far from the consciousness of the city and its sports fans.

It was this small town mentality wrapped up in a larger city atmosphere that has drawn me to this place as a sports enthusiast.  I have grown up hearing about how pleasant St. Louis fans can be in the stands of Busch Stadium.  I have been a part of standing ovations for So Taguchi, never more than a fourth outfielder for the Cardinals but a fan favorite nonetheless after returning with another team.  I have seen Larry Walker join the Cardinals and receive standing ovations before and after striking out in his first at bat with the team.  Where else can these two things both be said?  Can you imagine Yankee fans giving a player a standing ovation after a new acquisition made his first impact on the team by striking out?

This is not to say that as a fan of St. Louis sports I am a complete push-over.  I do not fully love everything that has anything to do with Cardinal red.  I have passionately hated the likes of Kip Wells and Preston Wilson when the two decided to grace the Cardinals with their lack of ability to either throw strikes or lay off of sliders in the dirt.  I have worn a Chris Carpenter jersey behind enemy lines at Wrigley Field with pride, taunting those around me with chants of “100 years” or other inflammatory responses to comments about how badly the Cubs were going to slaughter the “hicks from Missouri.”  I even had the audacity to question the sporting allegiances of an attractive young woman from Chicago despite her being far more attractive than I should have a chance with.  Luckily for me, she passed my tests as a White Sox fan who was not as passionate about any of the other teams from her home. 

To make a long story short, I have loved this city and its sports for better or worse for as long as I can remember.  Like my father before me, I have been struck by the disease of living and dying with sports and some of the local teams more than any person should admit, and this love brings with it opinions that are difficult to keep to myself.