Well, yeah. I'm talking about the 2006 World Series. Some guys impersonating the great St. Louis Cardinals baseball teams of the past would up being the last man standing in some kind of a kinky game of musical chairs. You could almost hear the collective Cardinal team speak: "Yeah, I figured we would lose, well we screwed up enough to . . . what? You say we WON? Wait a minute. Let me check that out!
Oh well, somehow baseball seems the real loser. The Boys of Summer seem out of place wraped up to their chins on cold, semingly mid-winter nights, The fans seem unworldly too, all covered in great football-like parkas and coats. Where are the slanting rays of the autumn sun from my own childhood that used to coat the World Series in a golden glow? Where are the fans of yesteryear who used to relax between innings and shield their eyes from the sunlight, not the glare of the winter arc-lights? Where are the "between-innings", for that matter? Now they are gone too, the buzz of the stadiums and friendly chatting of the announcers, the calls of "Colbeer .. . Icecolbeer!", all now lost in the ka-ching of the commercial cash register that keeps increasing the profit of the TV stations and their advertisers.
Well, there was some baseball there, Pujols great play between his legs and and Webster's stomp of triumph on first base stand out. There were others as well, but what will remain in the minds of many will be the dropped balls, the pitchers who couldn't throw straight, and the noses of fans sticking out of their parkas.
Baseball deserves better.
© John Womack, 2006. All rights reserved.
