That Sinking Feeling

Indulge me for a second. Links are there for a reason.

Baseball fans in St. Louis have often been called "The Best Fans in Baseball" tm. We completely fill our stadium in downtown St. Louis with red at every home game. We cheer and scream and flail wildly in the stands for our Cardinals, and even politely applaud the opposition when they manage something spectacular or noteworthy. We do not throw batteries at soft, squishy human beings (like the lovely fans in Philly), we do not urinate randomly onto the ground from our seats (like those "classy" Yankees fans), and we definitely do not stare vacantly into space and munch on bean sprouts and alfalfa burgers like the dipshits on the West Coast. The networks can train their cameras and their attention on the east and west coast teams all they want; true, living baseball tradition can only be found in the Midwest, and its beating heart lies in St. Louis.

Yet something happened here in the past year in the heart of baseball. The owners of the St. Louis Cardinals, headed primarily by one Bill DeWitt, Jr., begged for several years for public funding of a beautiful new ballpark to replace the graceful but aging Busch Stadium II. We gave them what they wanted, and a new Busch Stadium rose from the ashes of the old like a very expensive phoenix. Everyone gasped on Opening Day; the enormous, black-steeled lightposts erupting from the red brick walls, opening up to a grand vista of the Arch in the skyline beyond, tastefully and symbolically placed in center field. It was, by all accounts, an efficient masterpiece. The team's slogan: "Welcome to Baseball Heaven." Indeed, it promised a glorious future:


One problem: The team fucking sucks.

Instead of trying to hire actual baseball players to play on this brand new baseball diamond (did I mention how expensive it was??), Mr. DeWitt (net worth: 2.4 billion dollars) decided to field a team made up primarily of cast offs from other teams. Losing teams. Additionally, DeWitt felt that the price of one beer should equal one mortgage payment, and one pure beef hot dog should cost the same amount as a family of four eating at French World in Disneyworld. Hot dogs with cockroach parts save you a dollar. In other words, Mr. DeWitt's net worth is steadily going in the opposite direction of mine, all by mining the affections of the "Greatest Fans in Baseball." tm

Of course, the Cardinals do have one ringer to make the entire financial rape worthwhile:

The name Albert Pujols will someday be spoken in the same short breath with the game's greatest players. He is a monster. His cock is bigger than most ballplayers' bats. Every time an opposing pitcher tries to intentionally walk him, the ball is drawn back into the strike zone on the force of Albert's gravitational pull. The man is HUGE. And this year he carried 23 other players into the playoffs.

The problem is this: I cannot root for this team. It endured two eight game losing streaks, and a seven game losing streak that almost caused what ESPN constantly referred to as "the worst collapse in baseball history." This team, made up of aging, broken-down castoffs and idiotic rookies, managed to orbit around Pujols' enormous Latino cock long enough to stumble backwards into the playoffs. Ordinarily, such a rag-tag bunch of misfits would inspire fans to rally behind them and cheer them as a lovable underdog.

Not the "Greatest Fans in Baseball." tm We hate this embarrassment of a team. As the season wore on, we lustily booed every appearance of Jason Isringhausen as if he had ass raped a three year old boy on the mound. Every flail of Juan Encarnacion's bat, every Jim Edmonds strikeout, every five run first by Jason Marquis met with bitter hostility. We began to call them names, like Yadiot and Donkeyhead, LaLoser and So-what-if-I-can't-hit-major-league-pitching-I'll-play-anyway Taguchi. Our lust for even an average baseball team knew no bounds; we would swallow day old Pujols ejaculate to keep from losing a lead in the seventh inning. Many of us would do that anyway.

And yet, here we are, a day away from the playoffs. This team doesn't even deserve to play women's softball, and now they are about to stumble like Keystone Cops in front of a national audience and all of the baseball pundits (i.e. fucktards) on ESPN. I tell you now, I will be thoroughly embarrassed if this team does anything more than forfeit five minutes before game time. If they continue to try, it only means more dollars in DeWitt's vast vaults, and more ulcers and sweaty nightmares for "The Greatest Fans in Baseball." tm

Fuck that. I am going out and buying some cheap, cheap batteries, or maybe a high-powered rifle.

Let the games begin! Go Yankees!!!