My wife saw it first. We were rummaging through a Ft. Worth antique mall when she cried out for me to rush over. There he was….The Man. Stanley Frank Musial. She had found an LP entitled “Stan the Man’s Hit Record,” an audio “how-to” record of hitting instruction.
I was five-years-old when my father and my grandfather took me for my first major league baseball game at old Sportsman’s Park at the corner of Grand and Dodier in north St. Louis. They kept saying the same thing while pointing to an outfielder with uniform number 6 on his back.
“Don’t forget you saw number six play,” they said. “Don’t forget.” And I didn’t Musial concluded his playing career in 1963, or one year shy of the team’s seventh world championship against the hated Yankees in ’64.
I didn’t have a chance to ever consider another team. I have bled Cardinal red ever since. I had a transistor radio in my bedroom and would listen to Harry Carey and Jack Buck well past my bedtime. It made me love radio just as much as I loved the Cards. Through the years I have had my favorites….some were somewhat obscure Redbirds. I loved a back-up catcher by the name of Bob Uecker who still calls the games for the Milwaukee Brewers. Of course I adored Gibson, Brock, Torre, Simmons and a slow-footed third baseman by the name of Ken Reitz. When I was a young reporter for the Bethalto American newspaper, I remember getting the chance to walk out on the field at Busch Stadium II and reaching down to collect a little dirt at third base….hallowed dust that Reitzie patrolled.
Once I got to interview Ernie Hays, the only man to have played for both the Cards and Blues. He was the organist. And I enjoyed talking to him while he played the Budweiser theme during the seventh inning.
In 1982, while separated from my wife who wouldn’t move with me to Fairfield and a new radio job there…..I remember tears rolled down my face as Darrell Porter caught Bruce Sutter’s split finger fastball and we took the World Series again. It lifted me and connected me with Cardinal Nation.
But here’s why I remain a loyal Cardinal fan and watch them nightly on my computer in the outer reaches of West Texas. When I was 30, I read where Pete Rose was signing baseballs at night for $35 dollars apiece. I told somebody that Rose was classless and would never be held in the same regard as Musial. I sat down and wrote a short letter to Stan recounting that summer night back in ’62 when Dad and Grandpa took me to Sportsman’s Park and pointed out into the outfield. I told Musial that he was a gentleman and will always be my favorite Redbird.
Two days later, I got a color 8 x 10 photo personally signed by Musial. It is in my office now. In my man cave, I have officially put on display my Stan the Man Hit Record.
I never forgot. I will never forget that I saw number six play. And I will never forsake my roots. I love everything about the St. Louis Cardinals and will make the pilgrimage to Houston this summer to see the current edition and also on Labor Day weekend, the day after my oldest son will be married. And yes, I have passed my passion for Cardinal baseball to my sons.
I pray that someday….a few years down the road…..I will have a grandchild on my lap and say these words…..”Don’t forget you saw number five play. That guy on first base….don’t forget.”
God Bless “Baseball’s Perfect Warrior…..Baseball’s Perfect Knight.”
And God Bless the greatest sports franchise in the world.
The St. Louis Baseball Cardinals.
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