October 22, 2004
The Month when Nothing Else Mattered
By Karan Eschweiler
As I exited Busch Stadium on October 3rd, I knew I was in for a wild ride. The Cardinals had just completed the greatest season I have ever been a part of, and were headed to post season play. I have always been a great fan of roller coasters and was ready to buckle up for the ride ahead. I knew that we’d see our beloved Birds celebrating fantastic baseball and we’d also have to witness the excruciating pressure, stress and even disappointment as they struggled against very worthy opponents. I was ready for the emotional roller coaster of playoff baseball.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the effect that it would have on other areas of my life. It is now October 22. That means that for almost 3 straight weeks, my focus has been on baseball. With another week to go, I can only see things getting worse.
You see, I am a competitor. I think my dad may be responsible, but I can pretty much turn anything into a competition. My years playing NCAA Division I volleyball only added to my competitive juices. I cringe when people say, “It’s not whether you win or lose. ..” I want to grab their arms, shake them and scream, “Yes it is! If you can’t win, don’t play! If it doesn’t matter, why keep score? If you just are in it for the fun, join a rec league!”
Granted, I do believe in being a gracious, humble, loser. Sometimes, the other team is better. Sometimes you will lose. But, it does matter. I want the Cardinals to win with every fiber of my body. I want them to beat up on the Red Sox so bad that they won’t know what hit them. I want Albert, Scotty, Jimmy, Edgar, and Larry to muscle up and hit so many homeruns that the Boston fans actually cry in their seats. I want Cardinal Nation to wear red from head to toe and cheer so loudly that we can be heard across the river.
Basically, the month of October has found my daughters without a mother and my husband without a wife. I am relying heavily on my own mother for babysitting services as I scramble to get out of work on time to get down to Busch in time to avoid traffic and get in my favorite parking lot for the games. I am receiving too many personal phone calls at work as my friends call to make arrangements to meet at the game, buy, sell and trade tickets, or just meet downtown and enjoy the game from Hrabosky’s Saloon. I have turned off the rest of my life and turned completely to baseball.
I do remember doing some laundry this month. I think it was loads and loads of red. I know my girls have gone to school each game day morning wearing a Cardinal jersey or T-shirt. I don’t remember preparing a single meal. I think the local restaurants are beginning to recognize my voice as I call in a carry-out order. I don’t have time to cook; baseball games are on!
Last night, game 7 of the NLCS found me at home watching on TV. My husband took my oldest daughter to pitching lessons. Although her little arm learning to hurl a softball towards the plate is very important and interesting to me, there was absolutely NO WAY I was going to miss even one pitch of the game. My youngest daughter just went downstairs. She knew better than to mess with Mommy when her boys in red were on.
Every time I cheered, jeered, clapped or stomped, she’d wander up the steps, check the score and say, “Mom, are you okay? Do you think they’ll win?”
“Of course, they’ll win.” I’d reply. “They have to. That’s all that matters.”
Somewhere around the 7th inning, my two little girls and I moved our little party to my bed. We sat on the bed watching intently. I was so proud of my little Redbird Fans in training. They clapped at the right time, rooted on the right guys, cheered for the good plays and lived every pitch right along with me. They even read stats on the screen and asked appropriate questions.
For one moment (during a commercial of course,) I realized that I had actually been taking the month off. I’d been living baseball game to baseball game. I had been so focused on the Cardinals that I’d sent my youngest to school on a field trip day without packing her a lunch. I’d forgotten to sign their planners, and send in a form for the nurse. I had been taking advantage of my own mother using her as a nanny to my daughters. I had been completely ignoring my husband. But, thank goodness, just as the guilt was really getting heavy, the game came back on the screen.
As I cuddled with my little girls who were very tired from being up past their bedtime, as I explained to them how Tavarez broke his hand (and that if they ever acted like that I would break their hands myself), I realized two things. I really, really love being a mom and if my two little girls have survived October so far, they can make it without me for one more week! Bring on the Red Sox!
