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World
Series seats worth sacrifice
By
Andrew Collins
Reporter
Editor’s
note: This column was written on Tuesday Oct. 26.
ST. LOUIS — Twenty-six hours in line and $370
doesn’t get you very much in October. Specifically,
it gets you two mediocre seats to Game 3 of the World
Series between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Boston
Red Sox that aren’t even together. For a friend
and I, it was well worth it. OK, it was worth it to
me, but let’s face it; I wasn’t the one
who waited in line for 26 hours and camped out at Busch
Stadium in the chilly fall weather.
Astonishingly, people are willing to go to even greater
lengths than that. Another overnight camper sold his
pair of tickets to Game 5, a game not guaranteed to
take place, to an optimistic baseball fan for $1,700.
It rained for the majority of the day and temperatures
hovered around 60 degrees. Anxiety was high as to whether
the game would even be played, a possibility that would
throw a serious kink into some very expensive plans.
Upon arrival at the stadium, we were swept away with
the festive atmosphere, the hucksters trying to sell
cheap plastic souvenirs and the droning chants of “Let’s
go, Redbirds.” The excitement was contagious,
and even though I am not a Cardinal fan, I still got
goosebumps when the teams lined up along the baselines
for the announcement of the starting line-ups. I cheered
like a maniac when Edgar Martinez was given the Roberto
Clemente Award, given for excellence on the field and
in the community, and nearly cried when two fighter
planes drowned out the final words of Martina McBride’s
rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
The collective will of the 51,015 fans at the game
managed to keep the rain away, but at the end of the
game, the fans’ spirits were dampened because
St. Louis lost 4-1. The game was lackluster, perhaps
boring if you weren’t completely engrossed in
World Series fever.
I cheered along with the die-hard Cardinal loyalists
until the bottom of the ninth, when a ray of hope shone
down on home plate as the Cardinals came to bat. With
one out, Larry Walker strode to the plate and hit a
solo home run, as if fate itself had ordained it. With
the heart of the order coming up, it seemed as though
the Curse of the Babe might just rear its ugly head
on the Red Sox. Albert Pujols hit a drive that the
still-packed stadium thought was going to leave the
park also.
It was not to be, however, and the ball fell harmlessly
into the glove of Red Sox left fielder Manny Ramirez.
The fans were not deterred, however, and the cheers
grew as Scott Rolen made his way to the plate.
The stadium nearly erupted when Rolen smacked a long
fly ball that barely skirted the foul pole for nothing
more than a long strike. The fans’ hope remained
intact until Rolen swung and missed strike three to
end the game.
There were no hucksters selling souvenirs and no chants
as we exited the stadium.
The quiet didn’t last long, however. As we boarded
the shuttle for the ride back to St. Louis University,
talk had already shifted to Game 4, and the excitement
was building. Fifty thousand Cardinal fans were going
to invoke to the Curse of the Babe with every breath.
Thousands who had camped out at Busch Stadium the week
before would pack the stands once again, and the magic
that is October baseball would rule another night.
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