Bye Bye, Number Five

St. Louis has two major religions - Catholicism and St. Louis Cardinals baseball.  It's home to two main houses of worship - the basilica on Lindell Blvd. and Busch Stadium on Clark Ave.  In its down home Midwest way it worships its heroes unconditionally, wrapped in swaddling clothes emblazoned with an embroidered number 5.  Even if you're one of the less appreciative players after your St. Louis career years and embarrass yourself with the wrong choice words (I'm looking at you, Jim Edmonds) you will be welcomed back with open arms.

So this week, the St. Louis media sugarcoated the enormity of the Albert Pujols situation.  Meanwhile, a St. Louis based sports shop gave away Pujols' jerseys "because it's not about the money."

It's more than anger or resentment.  It's flat out disappointment.  It's coming home to find Papa Tony LaRussa on the front steps after curfew, as he slowly pulls up his aviators to stare intently down upon you.  You hang your head and sulk into the house, a few minutes after midnight.

St. Louis, and a larger part of the Midwest, embraces its golden children, putting them on an impossibly hard to reach pedestal.  Rather than boo and downgrade, there's always a positiveness that "things will move in the right direction."  Even the media takes this approach.  It's mostly endearing until you find yourself standing outside of the warm embraces.  Then it only seems naive as if you're standing among the halls of the school of ignorance as bliss.

So now our legend, the one who spent a season saying he wanted to end a career in St. Louis, is gone. Comparing this to a bad boyfriend I could only exclaim, "why didn't you just tell me this in the first place?!"  Of course it was about the money.  I heard it all including, " but he is the greatest player in baseball, he was worth more during his time in St. Louis and he wasn't paid like that. Bla bla bla."  Find me one career where you are paid retroactively and I'll give you $250 million over ten years.  I'm that confident I won't be delivered an answer.

There is a number 5 National League All-Star jersey hanging in my closet that won't be put to use any time soon.  Of course it makes me sad, but I was a Cardinals fan first.  It all begin to wear on me when, during the most unbelievable of runs to a World Series championship, it was being overshadowed by one person.  The drama can start to dwindle and we can finally focus on the future.  A future of a reliable third started or a bull pen that doesn't rise and fall like the sun.  Also, more championships.  I'm certain of that one.