So I like the St. Louis Cardinals. My friend Josh also likes the Cardinals. I’ve become a pretty casual baseball fan over the last five years or so; I’m not as hard on the Cardinals as I used to be. I recognize their imperfections and am frustrated by them at times, but I still love them unconditionally and will defend them no matter what. And, in the spirit of my last entry about being a champ and not a chump, the only major criticism I have, and this is an opinion Josh and I have long shared, is that the Cardinals don’t have any personality. They’re all nice enough guys, great role models and all, but they have no attitude. They’re all midwestern hospitality. Everybody feels like a homogenized, generic baseball player, like the dude you play through Career Mode with in MLB: The Show.
Call me a radical, if you will, but at the risk of wrecking the entire team dynamic, I want to see the Cardinals turned up to eleven. I wanna see more John Kruks, Rick Vaughns, and Bob Gibsons, fewer “gotta take things one day at a time” guys. I want fire and adrenaline and excitement, like the game really means something to them. They need to be intimidating. Clubs shouldn’t like visiting Busch Stadium because of the best fans in baseball or whatever; they should fear St. Louis because they know they are going to get the mess beaten out of them every time they visit. They shouldn’t be worried about if they’ll lose, but how badly they’ll lose, how much embarrassment they’ll have to endure as the Cardinals stomp them into a pile of blood and slime. They’ll be stomped with class and dignity, mind you—these are still the historic and respected Cardinals you know and love, but now they are a team of misfits and renegades who have joined forces to save the world! And possibly win a World Series while they’re at it!