I do love baseball. The Red Sox at Cardinals game is paused in the next room. It's a clear, warm night in St. Louis, not steamy. The park is full of people wearing red, as it usually is. The Cards scored 3 in the bottom of the first, all of the work-it-out variety appreciated by true fans. Move the runner over. Then a double steal which flummoxes the catcher. Then a double to the opposite field to bring them both home. That's beautiful baseball.

Three years ago I was fortunate enough to work on a contract in St. Louis and got to witness Cardinals fans up close. I had always heard they are great fans. I had no idea. Polite but passionate is the phrase that comes to mind. One night I took my two housemates out for a birthday dinner and one of them was beside herself watching the Cards blow a lead to the Mets on the overhead TV. At that point they were considered dead and gone. Then came the improbable stretch run to make the playoffs, the playoff win over the Brewers, and then the World Series rally. Katrina, the housemate, and I had a running commentary on the refrigerator whiteboard. We made a bet that whichever team won, the other of us had to wear a T shirt for the other team to work on Friday. I still have that Cardinals shirt ;-( Our landlady, who had little interest in baseball, was bemused.