Mercurial Missives

"A baseball game is simply a nervous breakdown divided into nine innings"  Earl Wilson

The 2011 Cardinals' season was a crazy, emotional ride for me.  I mean, I was more bipolar than usual over the course of a season (and I've had some dark baseball moments over the years).  August was the lowest month because my team had so much talent but was not playing up to par, my team had shown so much heart-- fighting back after losing their Ace to Tommy John, overcoming deficits in late innings, rebounding after blown saves (second most in the league)-- only to die on the metaphorical field of battle after being swept by the Los Angeles Dodgers in late August.

From NLDS Game 4 Post Game Interview (as I heard on Fox Sports Midwest):

Reporter: How many times has this team been announced dead by the proper authorities?

Lance "Puma" Berkman: A lot, I mean, but y'know, that's what we're here for-- entertainment purposes.



I didn't lose all hope, but the Cards certainly looked officially dead, so I and anyone else with proper sense declared them as such.  Of course, gladiators that they are (supreme entertainers), the Cardinals revived themselves (again), played a brilliant month of baseball and with the help of the Atlanta Braves, Philadelphia Phillies, Chicago Cubs closer Carlos Marmol (according to Cubs fans), and Cardinal Nation (according to Tony La Russa) the Cardinals claimed the National League Wild Card.

It is because of that September rush and the thrill of "Red October," that I have decided to blog my experience of watching Cardinals baseball.  At first, I was unsure exactly what I was going to focus on-- some blogs go into player and game analysis, others are vendettas railing against the front office.  I want this blog to be a reactionary blog-- reacting to all the funny and frustrating things that occur over the course of a season.  The best way to do this, I think, will be to write letters to the team after each game.  I believe baseball fans would agree when I say that one develops a strangely close and personal relationship with the team you follow throughout Spring Training to those first wary, exciting days of April, and through the dog days of summer to the stretch run.  You understand their weaknesses, marvel at their strengths, you watch the team evolve as they take hits but stay resilient. You share 162 nights with your team, and the team and the personalities it encompasses become an intimate friend-- granted, one you occasionally yell at -- but a friend nonetheless.  This is why I will frame my reactions in the form of a letter-- because I will be addressing a friend.  They will be "mercurial missives"-- I am sure my views in some letters will directly oppose one another-- but that is because I am a bipolar fanatic!  And that's okay.  It's that silly (and occasionally pathetic) perspective that makes the season fun, because it makes a triple in the bottom of the ninth, down by two runs, with two-on, two-out, and two-strikes one of the best moments of my life. 

So... in this space I will write letters to my Redbirds, letters "for the birds"--  meaningless little ramblings in the world's view, but special missives in my view, in my world. Take a peek through my lenses and stay awhile!

'Til Later