Believing is Seeing

Dear St. Louis Cardinals,

For the majority of my childhood, my family lived in the Dallas suburbs. Once I started truly paying attention to sports I was in high school (early 90s) and the Cowboys were on the verge of a run of Super Bowl dominance, the Stars arrived to teach me about hockey, and the Rangers built a new mecca where I spent much of the Summer before college. The Texas teams were MY teams.

Despite all the cheering in and for Texas, though, I harbored a Cardinals Connection. My maternal relatives lived in the St. Louis area which meant annual visits to the Gateway City, my dad grew up in Missouri, cheering on Stan Musial, and during my 6th and 7th grade years we lived in the St. Louis suburbs.

I faintly remember early trips to Texas Rangers games in what seemed to be the all-aluminum stadium prior to The Ballpark in Arlington. In those years, I remember cheering on Nolan Ryan, Jose Canseco, Rafael Palmiero, Kevin Brown, and Pudge Rodriquez. While my first major league game was probably in Texas, my clearest early memories of attending major league baseball games are of Busch Stadium and the Cardinals, of meeting Todd Worrell during a 6th grade field trip to a local hospital (his wife had just had a baby), of watching Ozzie Smith, Vince Coleman, Willie McGee, Tom Brunansky, and John Tudor.

When we lived in Missouri during my middle school years, I spent most of my time hanging out with Johnny and Jay, brothers who lived at the opposite end of our street. We were inseparable; spending our days playing G.I. Joe, M.A.S.K., or Transformers, exploring the creek that ran alongside our street, skateboarding (for transportation more than Gleaming any Cubes), and cutting a hole in my fence to make it easier to go to Dairy Queen for Full Meal Deals and Altered Beast.

At some point in our adventures, my dad took us to Busch Stadium to see the Cardinals play. I don't recall the opponent, the snacks, the weather, or the final score, but what I'll always remember are the souvenirs. Johnny, Jay, and I each got a red and white Cardinals batting glove that day. We wore those gloves home. We wore them the next day. We wore them most of the rest of the summer. We became "The Red Glove Club."

I recently found a photo of the three of us wearing our gloves, arms around each others shoulders, legs kicking, Rockettes style. We were quite the trio. The glove itself is in storage in the basement, but every time I run across it, I can't help but smile.

As the 2011 baseball season drew to a close, I watched excitedly as the Rangers finished out another great season and I nervously peeked through my fingers to watch you claw your way back from 10.5 games out to claim the NL Wild Card spot.

I cringed after the Rangers' first game against Tampa Bay, but was relieved to see them resume form and win the series easily. Watching you play the Phillies, I was a bundle of nerves on the edge of my couch until the final out of Carpenter's Game 5 gem to claim a spot in the NLCS.

I bet my sister-in-law's Michigan-born boyfriend a case of beer that the Rangers would beat the Tigers and I whooped and hollered with each game-winning home run by Nelson Cruz.Watching you play the Brewers, I was a bundle of nerves wrapped in a blanket of anxiety on the edge of my couch until you guys trounced the Brew-crew in game 6 to claim a spot in the World Series.

As my childhood dream came true and you and the Rangers were scheduled to meet in the World Series, it clearly became a win-win situation for me. I was going to be happy no matter who won, right? With the first pitch of Game 1, though, it was obvious my loyalties are entirely with you.

Watching you play the offensive powerhouse, 1st-to-3rd prodigy, destiny-guided Rangers, I was a bundle of nerves wrapped in a blanket of anxiety surrounded by the buzz of adrenaline on the edge of my couch. The series quickly developed into the best roller coaster I've ever ridden, peaking with your epic come-from-behind win on the shoulders of David Freese in Game 6. I've never been, nor have I seen Rach, as excited as after that 11th-inning home run.

To cap off the childhood dream, your Game 6 victory meant spending a crisp, October Friday night at Game 7 of the World Series in Busch Stadium, the field where Mini-Me, The Wubster, and Mickey [TKNTD] all experienced their first baseball games. It meant experiencing history with my dad, the man who took me to my first baseball game and the man without whom there would be no "Red Glove Club". It turned out to be a glorious night, boys, and a glorious end to a dream come true.

Thank you for teaching us about perseverance, hope, and tenacity this season.

Thank you for the nerves, anxiety, and adrenaline.

Thank you for memories I'll share with my kids as we enjoy Cardinals games next year and beyond.

Thank you for being my team.

Yours truly,

D