But there is no joy in Mudville, mighty Casey has struck out.
Our long breath of Indian summer weather came to a crashing halt today. This morning, the clouds hung like a pall, meteorologically speaking, as well as metaphorically, after last night’s game. Then the rain began to wash away our tears. It seemed all day that Saint Louis was enjoying its own little pity party and the weather was just cooperating.
For those readers that live under a rock or are hopelessly sports challenged [you know who you are], the Cardinals lost Game 5 of the World Series and now are down 3-2 to the Red Sox. What’s worse though is that action now shifts to Boston, who could wrap it all up on Wednesday. Sounds pretty bleak, right?
That was certainly the mood this morning at work. One sports enthusiast after another kept saying: “It’s over.” “We’ve lost.” Then they started to pick apart the Redbirds like a Thanksgiving turkey. They complained about our hitting, which really did suck. They complained about Wainwright’s pitching, which I thought was unfair. It’s hard to be a winning pitcher without any offense to back you up. They even complained about Holliday, whose home run accounted for our only run. They complained that he is not a clutch hitter. He only hits home runs when no one is on base. Please …
How quickly people forget. How fickle are baseball’s best fans. Have they already forgotten Game 6 of the 2011 World Series? But the water cooler pundits countered that that was at home, this is away. Yeah, right. One of the faithful, a grizzled veteran, later pointed out to me that the Cards have already done what needs to be done, twice. In both 1926 and 1934, Saint Louis over came a 3-2 deficit and won the series on the road. ’34 was in Detroit, where the Tigers were crushed 11-0 in Game 7, Ms. “Beards are the new black.” The youngsters at work whose lives are mere half-lives to mine scoffed at these ancient records. But if they have any spine left and tune in on Wednesday, they’ll hear the Fox announcers cant that Boston has not won the World Series in Fenway Park since 1918, the last season before the curse of the Bambino.
Baseball is a superstitious sport. Its fans are superstitious, but more so are its players. MLB has pushed this season to All Hallows Eve. If tomorrow night, devil’s night, the Cardinals can get their act together and begin acting like the other best team in baseball, then on Halloween, maybe we can give the Red Sox the real fright that they deserve.