10/22/2004
Why I Do What I Do
Allright, here's the scene:
You have Roger Clemens going up against Jeff Suppan in Game 7 of the NLCS. Winner take all and you can only take one thrower. It's the Rocket, right? Without a beat, it's the Rocket, right?
Not tonight. Not after the Cardinal Nation had been pumped up like a college homecoming football game. The line..."where darryl kile pitched his last game" woke up our echoes. Cardinal Nation...welcome to the national spotlight.
Supp pitched a gem and the bullpen carried him through. Julian Tavarez...you are a mother-fucking weirdo...God Bless You.
I watched the game at a sports bar in the STL, every pitch was live and die. I went temporarily deaf when Pujols doubled and I lost my hearing for at least two minutes after Scotty Ballgame's homerun.
This city is alot like me...it doesnt have alot going for itself right now (I've got baseball and a good GPA...the latter is probably about to change) We are basically living and dieing on every pitch. When the Cards got the final out, a Rodney Dangerfield look-a-like stood up and yelled "WERE ALL GONNA GET LAID!!!"
I have never been as drained as I am right now.
I followed up last night's classic Jim Edmonds Home Run and The Greatest Comback In Sports History with a conversation with my ex-girlfriend (whom, I dont miss per se, but we did have one of the greatest war time relationships ever, so how can you not miss that) where she complained about how boring her boyfriend is. Sweetie, I'm not your mother-fucking manicurist, I'm the guy who used to have sex with you, I don't want to hear about your relationship problems.
By the time bedtime struck yesterday, I just started crying and waited to fall asleep.
In the last four days I have ran a guantlet of emotions that should never be touched...Wednsday morning I woke up crying after thinking about how much of a trooper Curt Schilling is...I am positive that I will be crying when the alarm goes off tomorrow at 8 (how could I not be...WE MADE IT BABY!!! WE FUCKING MADE IT!!!)
I have not eaten in the last 60 hours...how the fuck could I?
And now Scotty Ballgame hits the biggest homerun in Cardinal Nation's shorterm memory.
I'm shaking as I type this.
I hate to be the team that beats the Red Sox...but you know what?
Fuck the mother-fucking Boston Red Sox
It's the two best baseball towns in America going head-to-head.
And Cardinal Natioin will not lose.
Not this year.
Not on the field where a beloved old man in a bright red jacket told a mournful nation why it was good and right to play baseball after Sept. 11.
Not today. Not this year.
You have Roger Clemens going up against Jeff Suppan in Game 7 of the NLCS. Winner take all and you can only take one thrower. It's the Rocket, right? Without a beat, it's the Rocket, right?
Not tonight. Not after the Cardinal Nation had been pumped up like a college homecoming football game. The line..."where darryl kile pitched his last game" woke up our echoes. Cardinal Nation...welcome to the national spotlight.
Supp pitched a gem and the bullpen carried him through. Julian Tavarez...you are a mother-fucking weirdo...God Bless You.
I watched the game at a sports bar in the STL, every pitch was live and die. I went temporarily deaf when Pujols doubled and I lost my hearing for at least two minutes after Scotty Ballgame's homerun.
This city is alot like me...it doesnt have alot going for itself right now (I've got baseball and a good GPA...the latter is probably about to change) We are basically living and dieing on every pitch. When the Cards got the final out, a Rodney Dangerfield look-a-like stood up and yelled "WERE ALL GONNA GET LAID!!!"
I have never been as drained as I am right now.
I followed up last night's classic Jim Edmonds Home Run and The Greatest Comback In Sports History with a conversation with my ex-girlfriend (whom, I dont miss per se, but we did have one of the greatest war time relationships ever, so how can you not miss that) where she complained about how boring her boyfriend is. Sweetie, I'm not your mother-fucking manicurist, I'm the guy who used to have sex with you, I don't want to hear about your relationship problems.
By the time bedtime struck yesterday, I just started crying and waited to fall asleep.
In the last four days I have ran a guantlet of emotions that should never be touched...Wednsday morning I woke up crying after thinking about how much of a trooper Curt Schilling is...I am positive that I will be crying when the alarm goes off tomorrow at 8 (how could I not be...WE MADE IT BABY!!! WE FUCKING MADE IT!!!)
I have not eaten in the last 60 hours...how the fuck could I?
And now Scotty Ballgame hits the biggest homerun in Cardinal Nation's shorterm memory.
I'm shaking as I type this.
I hate to be the team that beats the Red Sox...but you know what?
Fuck the mother-fucking Boston Red Sox
It's the two best baseball towns in America going head-to-head.
And Cardinal Natioin will not lose.
Not this year.
Not on the field where a beloved old man in a bright red jacket told a mournful nation why it was good and right to play baseball after Sept. 11.
Not today. Not this year.
