October 30, 2004
The Calm after the Storm
by Ray Mileur
It's over, the historical 2004 Major League Baseball Season and the 100th World History, they're both over and the records are in the books.
The books, boy when it comes to baseball there are the books. My office is filled with baseball books like, "The Cardinals Encyclopedia", "Cardinals Media Guide", "Cardinal Nation" - both editions, "Total Baseball", "The Baseball Encyclopedia", "Baseball Register", "Scouting Guide", "The Record Book" and the list could go on and on, more than enough to fill this whole front page and then some and still they don't tell you the whole story.
In baseball we like to quantify everything with numbers, there's batting averages, ERAs, home runs, wins, losses, hits with runners in scoring positions and as with the number of books in my library this list could go on and on as well, with the use of numbers applied to the human endeavor of baseball.
I have even gone as far as to suggest that a player is playing at 70% or 50% of his potential or with his injury? Where in the world do those numbers come from?
Yet with all the books and all the numbers that we try to use to measure performance, success or failure, the true story goes untold.
As the Cardinals fell to the Boston Redsox in Game Four, the final game of the World Series this week, there was a quiet calm and peace about me that would seem very uncharacteristic for someone like me in the midst of the storm. My wife, my children, my family and friends all extending their condolences were all taken back by my calm and quiet demeanor. They look at me like, what is wrong with him? He's so quiet don't let him walk across any bridges, have any sharp objects or load his guns. He's just too quiet and calm, after all he's been through.
Wasn't I the one? Just moments before with only two outs left, was screaming at the top of his lungs, to the point of prompting the neighbors to dial 911. Wasn't I the one? With what little voice I had left, yelling never, never, ever give up, you SOBs. (SOBs a term of endearment) I pleaded, "Just get a lead guys, come on, hell, just get a tie and we can still pull this off. Trust me."
How many times did you hear this from me this season? "Don't' get excited till you see me get excited", If you were paying attention, or lived within two blocks of my house, I started getting excited with one out in the bottom of the ninth of game 4. What happen to me after the game?
After all, ain't I the one who started the website, calling for LaRussa's head on a silver platter, just a couple of seasons ago?
Ain't I the one in the past who has complained that the Cardinals lack the "Gas House Gang" attitude and intensity and drive to win it all.
Ain't I been the one, the most critical of the managerial strategy and moves made and not made from the front office down to the dugout.
(Sorry to my old English teachers and real writers - I like using ain't today)
How is it then after being swept by the Red Sox, that I remained so calm in the midst of the storm that surrounded Cardinal Nation?
Here is the bottom line;
Let me tell you a story - It's been over 10 years ago now when my youngest daughter Kelly, whom you might have seen jumping up and down on Fox Sports one night during a game after Jose Oquendo gave her a foul ball hit by Scott Rolen, Joe Buck made the comment that the young man sitting next to my very attractive daughter didn't stand a chance getting the ball. That's my daughter Kelly, could have or even could be a model. That's my daughter Kelly, who came home one day years ago and told me much to my surprise, that she went out for the high school cross country team.
Now Kelly is the very, very last person you would ever expect to go out for sports let alone cross country, I mean really where is the glory, the fame and limelight by being a member of a cross country team?
It was about the middle of their season and I'm not even sure when a cross country season is now, my memory fails me now, but there was this track meet in our neighboring state of Indiana about a three hour drive from here one way. Of course you know me I'm going to support my daughter no matter how crazy I think she is, I mean I know she is no track star. But an amazing thing happen that day.
After my three hour drive and what seem to be another hour waiting for this thing to get started, the cross country event begin. As the race preceded and the runners passed I looked for my little girl, to give her words of encouragement, in spite of the overwhelming odds against her ( her genes, I never could run worth a dang) the first 20 to 25 runners passed by and here came my little girl and she was giving it her all - I can't begin to describe how proud I felt, and while she's not in the lead or no where near the front of the pack I noticed something. She was on pace to improve her best time by about two minutes.
I ran to the finish line and as the runners crossed ahead of my daughter I saw her coming in and I was shouting and screaming much like I was in Game Four of the World Series, with one, than two outs. COME ON KELLY, COME ON - as she crossed the finished line 2.14 seconds ahead of her best time, ever.
You would have thought she had won an Olympic Gold Medal. I was never ever so proud of her as I was that day, in that race.
When I could get to her (you know how hard it is to get to your teenager daughters) I gave her a great big hug and kiss and told her how proud I was of her. Of course I got the mandatory teenage daughter hug back, quick kiss on the cheek and the "I have to go Dad," as the proud papa stood there alone again in Indiana, facing a three hour trek back to St. Louis, while my track star ran off with her friends and I think there were even some boys in that group. What the heck, boys?
She had cut 2.14 seconds off her time, it was an amazing feat. as far as I was concerned.
Someone once said in track you are really competing
against yourself and on that basis alone Kelly was a
big winner that day.
I think that is how I feel about the St. Louis Cardinals.
They weren't expected to win, even I who projected they
would win 95 games and the NL Central, I had serious
reservations about them getting to the World Series.
In fact I didn't forecast a National League Championship
even. My Cardinals in seven games projection for the
World Series came about because during a television
interview I was forced into making a prediction and a 7
game projection (Hope) just sort of came out under the
pressure of the lights of the camera.
I felt the same way I did for the Cardinals after the final out in game four as I did for my daughter Kelly , that day at that cross country race in Indiana years ago. I was very proud of her that day and I felt the same way for Cardinals after game four and folks a trophy or ribbon would not have made me any prouder.
Listen to me fans - this is important - a World Championship is a benchmark in the history of a ballclub, like any awards you and I might received in life, it is not who we are - it alone does not define us, They are merely a benchmark in our lives, from where we take stock of ourselves our effort and our commitment to excellence in whatever our endeavors and from those benchmarks, we move on. Move on trying to improve on what we do, how we do it and hopefully in the process we become better human beings and in this case, ballplayers and a team as a result.
We do this, rather than on that day or series, win or lose, we allow that to define or even limit us to who we are, or who we have the potential of being. We use victory or defeat the same way, to help shape our lives and our future. And folks the future of the St. Louis Cardinals, the organization, the ball team, the ballpark, the city and the fans, well the future is bright.
Because the bottom line is; like Kelly in her track meet, really we all compete against ourselves in what we do and if you can look in the mirror and honestly say to yourself you did the best you could and you will try to do even better the next time, then my friend you are a true Champion, in my book.
I want to say Thank you - to the St. Louis Cardinals organization, players and fans, the 2004 National League Champions. Like a proud Dad, I'm very proud of you all.
After the storm of the 2004 World Series, there was and there is, this inner calm within me, and those who look for me to rant and rave (I will when I have to) maybe now you understand how I feel. Like a proud father, I'm filled with pride and like the Chicago Cubs and their fans always say "Wait until next year."
God Bless.
