Tag Archives: st. louis

“We Are Cardinal Nation” Tone Poem

In the envelope in which I received a recent Cardinals ticket order, there was a game schedule. This year’s marketing theme for the Cardinals organization is “We Are Cardinal Nation”.

On the back of the schedule there was this text. I found it especially neat.

We are Cardinal Nation.
We are the 3 million in the stands and the millions more at home.
We are generations of generations.
We are a father, a son, and a scorecard.
We are Ducky, Dizzy, and The Rajah. Albert, Yadi, and Waino.
We are a hard nine.
We are a kid, an old radio, and a disregard for bedtimes.
We are curtain calls and the Clydesdales.
We are sac bunts, hitting the cutoff, and the 4-6-3.
We were “America’s Team” before there was such as a thing as “America’s Team.”
We are 1, 2, 6, 9, 14, 17, 20, 24, 42, 45, and 85.
We are “Go Crazy Folks” and “That’s a Winner.”
We are Hornsby’s .424 and Gibby’s 1.12.
We are Bonilla’s hamstring and a rookie named Albert.
We are Robison, Sportsman’s, and Busch.
We are “Seat Cushion Night.”
We are Ol’ Abner, among other Shannon-isms.
We are “Brummer’s stealing home!”
We are 1892, and 1982. (And not to mention ’26, ’31, ’34, ’42, ’44, ’46, ’64, ’67, and ’06.)
We are the Gashouse Gang, Slaughter’s Mad Dash, and Brock for Broglio.
We are backflips on Opening Day.
We are peanuts, Cracker Jacks, and home runs that break things.
We are a porch swing, a summer night, and the crackly of the Mighty ‘MOX.
We are Whiteyball and the baby blues.
We are Mike Laga and the Legendary Foul Ball.
We are “Meet you at Musial.”
We are 42,396 on a Tuesday night.
We are 475 home runs, 3,630 hits and 3 MVPs, despite WWII.
We are George Kissell.
We are two birds on one bat. And always will be.
We are 43 Hall of Famers, 10 World Championships, and counting.
We are the first team this side of the Mississippi…
And the best fans this side of anywhere.
We are Cardinal Nation.

“We Are Cardinal Nation” Blog Buttons

As a self-proclaimed and fully-fledged member of Cardinal Nation, I have to admit that I really love the slogan the Cards are using for their publicity this year. I also like to promote things I am interested in or care about.

After a lot of searching, I unfortunately couldn’t find an image that was of a suitable size for displaying in my blog sidebar, so what I did is search for the best image I could find from that campaign, put it in the right sizes, and created a bunch of buttons for myself (you can see one in the sidebar of this blog if you go to the main page).

If you want to use these on your own size, please feel free. I’m not making any claim on the images. Here they are, in several widths:

300px

250px

200px

150px

Yes, I do realize that the words and images used in these are trademarks of the Cardinals organization. If you are reading this and you are from the Cardinals organization, please just contact me if you want them taken down and I’ll do it. Better yet, I would appreciate it if you would take these or make your own and host them on the Cardinals website so others can have the opportunity to proclaim their Cardinals nationality.

Padres @ Cardinals 4/2/2011

We took the kids out to the ballpark last Saturday in a bit of spontaneous action. I didn’t get as many shots as I normally do, but a few of these do a great job of showcasing what an amazing ballpark we have here in St. Louis.

Spring Can Start Now—Baseball Is Back

Baseball is more to me than simply a game. It is a tradition that I share with my children, that I share with my father, and that he shared with his father. It consists of stories told from one generation to another of who is the best, who you have seen play while sitting in the stands, and the comparisons and discussions that come along with those shared experiences and memories. It is neglecting to study for finals to go to a day game at Wrigley, taking the entire family out for a day at Busch, and staying up late listening to the west coast games. It is a love of a game that connects both halves of our family, and a baseball game is the gift I’m giving my wife for our tenth anniversary.

Baseball gives a shared language, a lore of well over a century of organized play, and a history that follows the contours of the events that shaped this country. It is a profoundly personal thing that you watch along with tens of thousands of people in a stadium or millions of people on television and radio. Grown men wait for the season to start every year to sit in the stands and feel like a child or to own imaginary baseball teams and challenge each other in the field of statistics.

I love baseball. Opening Day is the day of dreams—the day where every team is in first place, if only for a couple of hours. The day where fans’ hopes are refreshed (even the Cubs fans), the future seems bright, and optimism abounds. It’s the day where the heroes of children suit up and take the field of competition, as their fans watch and wait to see what will take place for the next six months.

It is the only major professional sport in the United States where the end of the game is not dictated by a clock—and in more than one way, it is timeless.

Welcome to spring.

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