Being a long-time fan of the game, I encouraged Max's interest in his Cardinals. If the Cards came to Houston to play, we drove down to see them. If a Cards game was televised, we tuned in. As the end approached for the old Busch Stadium, I decided it was time to make a trip to St. Louis. For Max's 11th birthday in September, 2005, I surprised him with a trip to Busch Stadium to see his beloved Cards. As it turned out, we were in attendance at the very last regular season home stand that was held in the old stadium. It was a beautiful day on September 30, 2005, and we arrived at the ballpark early and watched the pre-game festivities which included a ceremony recognizing all of the greats who ever played for the Cards in the five-decade history of that stadium. We saw the amazing "Wizard" of a shortstop, Ozzie Smith, the already-under-steroid-suspicion- but-still-loved, Mark McGwire, pitcher Bob Gibson, the amazing base runner, Lou Brock and the ultimate Cardinal, Stan "The Man" Musial. It was a perfect baseball kind of day! The only damper on the day came in the late innings when Max made an untimely visit to the pro shop to buy a hat and completely missed an Albert Pujols Grand Slam!! He was inconsolable about that for hours after the game! (Actually, he still doesn't really like to talk about it to this day!)
There was a point in the old stadium where you could walk up and look out over the construction of the new ballpark. You see, the construction had gone just as far as it could and the machinery and the workers were silenced until the end of the season when the old stadium would have to be demolished in order to make room for the new ballpark. This is what it looked like as we peered down into the halfway-finished ballpark that day. The new ballpark is seen in the upper right of the picture - with only the infield seating completed at that point.
We admired the beauty of the new ballpark and vowed to come back one day. We even decided to leave a little memento of our trip to St. Louis and we purchased a brick paver with Max's name on it which is now lining the sidewalk just outside of the new Busch Stadium.. Although we have never been back to see it, we did get a replica brick in the mail so we know it looks like this.
Never at any point during that visit did we imagine that this new ballpark, this stately shrine constructed of steel and brick with its beautiful arched entrances and spectacular downtown skyline views, would be the site of our most catastrophic sports disappointment of all time. Never did we imagine that the brick paver we purchased would be trampled and celebrated upon the night our baseball hearts were broken into little pieces. The possibility of our local hometown team being impacted in any way by this National League ballpark rising in the shadows of the skyscrapers in downtown St. Louis was something so far from our realm of comprehension. It never crossed our minds.
From that year on, Max and I began to visit ballparks all across the country. We saw the undying loyalty of Cubs fans at Wrigley Field. We experienced the tradition and culture of Dodger Stadium. Max visited Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium, both steeped in history and tradition, and both filled to capacity every game with die-hard lifetime fans. With every trip we took, we appreciated our team even more. I watched as my son matured and no longer had to follow the athlete of the moment. He grew out of his Pujols jersey and it was never replaced. He began to understand what it meant to be a part of a community; a community who lives and dies with the success of our local team; a community who supports the local team no matter what. Slowly, MY team became OUR team.
As I watched Game 6 of the World Series with him last Thursday night, I looked for any glimmer of the little boy who once loved the Cardinals and Albert Pujols. I watched him as he watched the game and I wondered if he even remembered that trip and the baseball-related adventures that trip inspired. We watched Game 6 together, arguably the best World Series game ever played, while his sisters slept all around us. When Josh Hamilton hit a home run in extra innings and it looked like our first world championship was imminent, I looked through my own tears and I saw tears in his eyes too. When we lost that game I saw the sheer devastation on my son's face and it made me wonder for a split second if I had done the right thing by encouraging and cultivating the devotion to our team that he now shared. You see, being a Ranger fan certainly has its share of heartbreak and maybe, just maybe, I could have spared him this particular disappointment. As I watched him dejectedly climb the stairs to go to bed that night, my only comfort came in the realization that the bitter, bitter disappointments of that night will only make the victory taste that much sweeter on that inevitable and unforgettable night when we WILL clinch it all!
For now, when Opening Day rolls around in 2012, we will do what we have always done. I will check Max out of school and we will head out to the ballpark and take our seats in Section 37 - Row 23. Disappointments of the prior seasons will be far from our memory and our hearts will soar with the promise and excitement of a brand new season. And we will face whatever comes together.... just a couple of die-hard Texas Ranger fans waiting....and waiting.....for our big day!
