15 April 2004

More baseball symbolism (and I need to get a life)

You may recall my encounter last week with the St. Louis Cardinal.  Right now, I am about forty five miles northwest of St. Louis, prime redbird country.  My nephew, a transplanted Chicagoan, has fallen under the influence of his father and become a "die hard" fan.  Brian was not a Cub fan when he lived up north anyway, but for him to swear allegiance to the Cardinals at the age of twelve was painful.  Poor, misguided boy...

As I was nearing the end of my entry about spending a few days with my niece I heard a loud pounding noise coming from the kitchen.  I went in there to see what it was, and saw that a cardinal was continually flying into the window located above the sink that faces south.  He did it (plea for help from an ornithologist: how does one tell a male cardinal from a female???) at least ten times, and he seemed to do it harder once he saw me looking at him.

I take this as another gauntlet thrown down from the powers that be who are trying to diminish the buzz I feel about the Cubs this year.  And I can't help but compare the methods of the mascots: a cardinal thinks he can fly through reinforced glass to get what he wants, yet I picture a Cub just ringing the damn doorbell and asking for whatever he wants.

And a quick check of the standings reveals:  Cubs are 4-4, Cards are 4-6; neither team is covering themselves in glory yet.

Of course, the only stat that matters in all this is 0-0, which is the record of these two teams in head-to-head contests.  They don't play for another month or so, I believe, which is plenty of time for me to board my next plane and see a Cardinal sitting in the seat beside me.

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