I have been a Cardinals fan since I was a very little girl.
See? I have proof!
Ok, so I borrowed Dad’s jersey back then. But I got one of my own soon after. I lived in St. Louis when growing up, from age two until about third grade when we headed to Texas. San Antonio, Houston and Arlington to be exact. Baseball was always around, but the Cards were always the favorite, even when we watched the local teams.
The entire family has been saying these past few days that my dad has a hand in this year’s World Series contestants. You see, the Cards have always been his team, after growing up here. There’s even a family story that Dad was pulled out of seventh grade (I think) religion class by his uncle because somehow they had scored 1964 World Series tickets at the Busch Stadium II. It’s built up to lore and Dad loved telling that story.
But when we moved to Texas, it was ok to route for the Rangers because they were the American League team and didn’t directly compete with our beloved Cardinals that often.
It took Dad a year and a few months since getting to Heaven, but he was finally able to get St. Peter’s ear and arrange for this match up. I know that he’s sitting up there, score card in hand, pencil at the ready, a cold O’Douls next to him, ready for that first pitch at Busch Stadium III.
And his daughter will be in the bleachers, screaming her lungs out, knowing he would have LOVED to be there with her.