Growing up in St. Louis, you don’t have a choice. Everyone likes baseball and everyone likes the Cardinals, meaning you do too.
In that bubble, there’s an unconditional love for anyone wearing the birds on the bat across their chest. The Cardinals matter to St. Louis in a manner the Rams and Blues never will. They’re a long-standing institution, an object of pride for a shrinking city that’s got the Arch, Busch Stadium and little else.
Escaping that bubble … well, it’s pretty jarring. I know plenty of people that don’t like the Cardinals — pretty much the whole city of Chicago, really. These days, though, even among casual fans, the Cardinals are the most-hated team in baseball that doesn’t wear pinstripes.
But once I thought about it, things became clear. The Cardinals are really annoying. That’s why I love them, and why you might love to hate them.
The best way to inspire hate is by winning, and St. Louis has done plenty of that over the years. The Cardinals have appeared in 18 World Series and won 11, both second-most in the history of Major League Baseball (but still well behind the Yankees’ 40 appearances and 27 victories).
More irritating than long-past history, though, is St. Louis’ recent run of ridiculously good luck. The Cardinals advanced to the National League Championship Series despite finding themselves one strike from elimination twice during their final game in Washington.
Both Yadier Molina and David Freese drew walks and were eventually driven in on consecutive singles from unheralded middle infielders Daniel Descalso and Pete Kozma. The Cardinals scored four in the ninth to seal a 9-7 win after falling behind 6-0 earlier.
Unlikely heroes are nothing new in St. Louis. In 2006 it was Jeff Weaver, the starter who came to St. Louis midseason with a 6.29 ERA and ended it by pitching eight innings and allowing one run in the World Series-clinching Game 5.
And last year, Freese rampaged through the playoffs before hitting the game-tying triple and game-winning home run in Game 6 of the World Series, keeping his team alive in one of the most exciting baseball games ever played.
The guys like Kozma, a .223 hitter in his Triple-A career, keep producing magical moments during pivotal playoff games have to irritate fans of every other team, especially the one forced to sit its stumbling $275 million third baseman in elimination games.
In addition to the no-name miracle workers, St. Louis’ stars have personalities that rub plenty the wrong way. Chris Carpenter screams at nothing in particular after striking people out. Molina, smug grin on his teeth and ill-advised tattoos on his neck, becomes even more unbearable after he’s thrown out another runner stupid enough to try to steal a base.
If this team were from anywhere else, I’d hate it. But they’re from St. Louis, like me, and so it’s a given. Your dad loved the Cardinals because his dad did, and you’ll follow suit. So it went for me.
The Cardinals are the ultimate overdogs in a small market that fancies the underdog. And when you spend football season in this state rooting for a now-hapless Missouri and the always-awful Rams, it’s nice to be on top for once.
