[Quick note from Kevin: We’re now officially foraying into 2011. Think I’d start with a piece or two written about one year ago exactly. Enjoy!]
As I have reported to you on more than one occasion, my first memory of anything occurred in October of 1926. Prior to that time, the New York Yankees had a hammer lock on the world baseball title. In October of 1926, Grover Cleveland Alexander, the Cardinal pitcher, won the sixth game of the World Series and thought that he would be spared any further duty. But Frank Frisch called on him to pitch to Tony Lazzeri, the feared Yankee slugger, in the sixth inning of the final game. Baseball historians will tell you that in this case mighty Casey had struck out. Alexander went on to pitch the rest of that game and held the Yankees scoreless. It became the first World Series title for St. Louis. Beyond that, it was my first memory of anything.
Now here it is 85 years later and the St. Louis Cardinals have done it again. They have defeated the Texas Rangers and are now the undisputed champions of the 2011 baseball season. If my memory is reasonably correct, the St. Louis Cardinals now have 11 titles to their credit. So, I am inclined to indulge in a figure of magnanimity for the Chicago Cubs. It is fairly obvious that the Chicago Cubs will not win a pennant for many years to come. They have a new manager and he will have to deal with the inflated salaries and egos of the Cubs ball players. Now look at it in this light. Chicago is one of my favorite towns. We even have an elder daughter who was born there. During 85 years – the title to this essay – the Chicago Cubs have won exactly nothing. During that time the St. Louis Cardinals have won the World Series on at least 11 occasions. This strikes me as an unfairness of the first order.
Accordingly, I am proposing that at the end of the 2012 baseball season, in which I expect the Cardinals to again be victorious, the St. Louis club will abdicate their title after winning the next World Series. They will designate the Chicago Cubs the recipient of their abdication. I expect that this will be a gesture of human magnanimity which even people such as James Reese, formerly of Florida, will understand. Having made this magnanimous gesture on behalf of the St. Louis Cardinal has filled my heart with joy. I can take no more cheerfulness at this point so I will herewith terminate this essay, knowing that good has been done to all of mankind.
E. E. CARR
November 7, 2011
Essay 609(?)
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Kevin’s commentary: Until I read this essay a few months ago, I had no clue that Aunt Mo was from Chicago. I have no idea if she was born there or if she actually lived there for any extended period of time. Perhaps Pop will clue me in.
The other thing that struck me as neat about this essay is that it exemplifies a phenomenon that I have occasionally noticed regarding sports and myself. The phenomenon is this: I know almost nothing about sports — seriously, next to nothing — but the sports that I do find myself randomly coming into contact with fit squarely into the “almost” part of “almost nothing.”
Perhaps this is unclear. Hell, that is definitely unclear. As an example, though, I know approximately four baseball teams: the Texas Rangers, the Chicago Cubs, the Houston Astros, and the St. Louis Cardinals. I could not tell you a single baseball player on any one of these teams except a Cubs player by the name of “fukudome,” who I only remember because it is lewd if you read it right.
Seriously though, that’s all the baseball teams that come to mind. I guess I know the Yankees too but that name only comes to me after thinking hard about baseball teams for a solid thirty seconds, that’s the only other one I came up with. I guess the Mets too. Point being despite me knowing practically zero about sports, all three teams mentioned in this essay were ones that I am familiar with. I know about the Rangers because Bush owned them, the Cubs because I have seen several of their games, and the Cardinals because my friend Sam once borrowed my car to go watch a Cardinals game and it made me nervous.
The thought here is that the odds of me knowing even one baseball team that Pop could write about are poor, and of me knowing 100% of the teams mentioned, astronomically poor. But yet I do. And this happens with sports a lot, which makes it seem like I am better-informed than I am. This makes me happy and so consider this a formal request to the world: henceforth I only wish tangentially encounter information regarding sports about the handful of teams with which I am already passingly familiar.
Also, this is the only essay in which my commentary has rivaled the length of the essay itself. I will attempt not to ramble so much in the future.