Up In Arms

ATTENTION UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI or ANY of you that associate yourself with Mizzou and its athletics. In this case, it’s football:

After the events that have unfolded over this weekend, I felt this post was NECESSARY.

Take a long look at yourselves, folks. All around campus, animosity and a sense of mutiny has overtaken the masses. All I have to ask is why?

Blaine Gabbert and the Tigers took the field on Saturday to play a Baylor team that was thought to be nothing more than a walk through. The game went on, Mizzou got to an early lead, but squandered it in the second half and has suffered another heart-breaking loss.

It happens.

The next day, people all over the town and fans across the nation are up in arms about the play of our beloved team. Constantly I’m hearing jabs towards the skills of Blaine and others on the team, saying such degrading things that it has made me absolutely sick. “Gabbert sucks, he is a waste of a scholarship,” “Bench him, he’s worthless,” and “Mizzou sucks, we’re always going to suck,” are just a few of the “tasteful” comments being thwarted at this program. Some were just too outrageous to even be mentioned in this post.

What is wrong with you? The kids go out there everyday, bust their asses off at practice AND in the classroom to give YOU, the student body AND fan base, something to be proud of each week. This is how we repay them? O.K., so the team isn’t winning every game, or isn’t putting up ridiculous numbers like seasons past. It’s sports, and that’s how it goes sometimes and that’s why we love it. But don’t you DARE go out there, thrash a team that YOU support and give your heart and soul to defend and say you are a true fan. Times are going to be rough sometimes, especially with a young, raw-talented group such as the one we have here.

Let’s take a look at the numbers, shall we?

Over the course of the season, Gabbert has put up numbers. 2,364 yards, 17 touchdown passes, an average of 262.7 yards per game, and a quarterback efficiency rating of 134.29. While these are by no means heisman statistics, who says they have to be? The kid is giving his all, giving his blood, sweat, and tears to a team that goes out there each week, throws on the pads, and competes. While the turnovers are definitely notable (7 interceptions along with a handful of fumbles), this reinforces my point of RAW talent. The kid is ONLY a sophomore, he is young, AND HUMAN (shocking), and is going to make mistakes. No one, not even YOU, is perfect.

After Baylor, the frustration of the student body has put a stamp on the University and it’s fan support. It certainly isn’t one to be proud of. ATTENTION: We have been spoiled the past few years, with the likes of Chase Daniel and company leading us to 30+ wins in the past 4 seasons, we CANNOT hold these kids to the standards of yesterday. I know each and every one of you reading this KNOWS we can be that good again, and with the talent surrounding us, who’s to say that we won’t? **Note: I’m not talking to you, Kirk Herbstreit.

Some of you are pointing the finger another direction: the coaching staff. This is where, if anywhere, PARTIAL blame could be made. Is Gary Pinkel or Dave Yost going to call the perfect play every time to ensue a victory? NO. They are human as well, believe it or not. Remember, these two are working together as head coach and offensive coordinator for the first time, along with a throng of new, young players. They too are not familiar with the capabilties or abilities of these newcomers. Play calling is a tough, TOUGH thing to do at the college level and it has showed prominent this year. At times, it seems Pinkel and Yost don’t utilize the special talents of the players in the system.

Daniel, a stout, fiery leader who was enthralled with the spread offense, ran the team like no other. Gabbert, a bird of a different feather, has the stature of a titan with a rocket arm geared towards a more pro-styled offense. When the tandem finally gets on the same page, look out.

DO NOT for one second call anarchy on the Mizzou football team. Things WILL improve. Coming into this season, we all knew what we had lost, but little KNEW what we were gaining with these new talents. This year was supposed to be a RELOADING year, not rebuilding. It is damn near impossible to continue the successes of yesteryear when 16 of the 22 starters from a year ago vacate the premises. Give it time, keep the faith.

Students: It makes me sick to hear the majority of you “abandoning” our team because of a lack of performance. It makes me sick to listen to the horrible atrocities that you sling at the players of this team. It makes me sick to think that you are proving all the “stereotypes” that circle Missouri fans RIGHT. It makes me sick to think that I am a part of the same group of “fans” as you.

If you love your school, support the decisions that encompass the University and its athletics, NEVER put down the team and its players like I see you doing now. I’m NOT saying agree with everything our athletics program does. I’m simply saying stay behind your team, support the players, and NEVER EVER give up or lose hope.

Regardless of the turnouts of this season or ANY of the seasons to follow, I will ALWAYS find time to support the school I have cared so much about for the majority of my life. I will ALWAYS be in the stands, screaming my head off in support of the team, no matter the score. I will ALWAYS be a true fan.

Clean it up, give some love to the team, and keep studying. We all need it.

Don’t you dare quit on the school that has given us all so much.

See you on Saturday, and every game day from here on out for the rest of my life.

M-I-Z

Round Two

Well folks, sure has been awhile.

To start off, I’d like to take the time to say sorry for the long LONG delay in posts. It’s been a busy couple of months. Get off my back.

Anyway, I find myself in the midst of year two here at the wonderful University of Missouri. Over the past couple of months, some things have changed, while others have stayed the same. In previous posts, you may have read about my brother coming to live with me in Columbia. Just months ago, Tommy was a flustered, beaten, and overall confused kid who had a rough time. Now, the kid has a nice apartment (conveniently located right behind my own), a great following of friends, and a steady job at Starbucks. Good job bro. Keep it up and make us proud.

I have moved into my new place, got the hell out of Campus View, and enjoy the company of the people I met my freshman year. Unfortunately, I still have the same job. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the people there and it’s surely broadened my horizons being acquainted with these people, I just need to get the hell out of grocery. School has begun and it is kickin’ my ass. Who knew all the talk of the “sophomore slump” was true? No, but seriously, it’s tough. But no worries, I’ll make. I always have.

Throughout the year, much has changed. I have continued to become a stronger person mentally. Coming off one of the more draining summers on record (living on my own away from home, working 2 jobs full time, going to summer school, dealing with other issues, etc.), I managed to have one of the better summers as well. Contradicting I know. I found a part of myself this summer I had never known before. I made older friendships stronger, newer ones even better, and met a very special lady who I can now call my own. I have a new outlook on everything and I am happier than I have been in a long time.

Some more new things, I am officially an Antler. For the uneducated, the Antlers are an ELITE group of SELECT fans here at Mizzou who cheer on Mizzou Basketball (and other sports) and help the team by distracting the other team by any means possible. I watched last year as my roommate became a part of this awesome group and knew I had to join. So everyone come to the games, watch them on TV, or simply read the wrap-ups and I’m sure you’ll hear about us. It’s going to be one heck of a ride this year.

Proud to wear the 'A'

Well, my capacity for thought has exceeded for tonight. You should be up to speed by now. If not, that sucks. See you in 5 months.

Pops

Growing up as children, we all have our heroes. 10-year-olds across numerous backyards of America envision their favorite athlete and try to emulate them as they practice their sport of choice on hot summer nights. Thousands of screaming pre-teen girls gawk and gander at the hunk on stage, singing their favorite song right to them. Adults look to figures of power and brilliance and remark about how much everyone else should be like them.

For me, it’s a little bit different.

Today is my father’s birthday. He’ll be turning 52, but if he asks, just tell him 25. Sounds like a good age, right? As a child, I’d always admired my Dad, as most kids often do, being the symbol of strength in the family that we all hope to be. But as I grew older, events started to unfold, and I just drew closer and closer to him.

He is the epitome of strength. After a sudden divorce of the wife he’d loved for nearly thirty years and a series of bad breaks at work, in the family, and finances, he continued to be strong for my family. Offer the hand that has always been there. Give us advice, chew us out for being stupid, making sure that we lived as close to a normal life as possible while dealing with the situation. As my brother and sisters came home to rant and scream about our daily problems, he’d listen, offer the feedback, and do what father’s do.

I’ve always come to him with my problems. At times, he has had to pry it out of me, seeming to know at all times when something was wrong. When Sarah and I broke up, I knew who to talk to. Dad had walked that line before. Granite my situation stands as a speed bump compared to his earthquake.

Growing up, Dad coached all of our sports teams. To this day I can picture him telling me how to swing a bat, approach the plate, and how to follow through on my pitching delivery. I think he did fairly well, considered all four of his kids faired quite well in the athletic world. Hell, the man is 52 and still playing fast pitch baseball himself! I always expect that call from him on Sunday nights, listening to him go on and on about how he “mowed ‘em down,” and “made this spectacular play.” It always ends with him saying “how many 50-year-olds do you know that still play baseball?”

Anyway, tonight the majority of my family is celebrating another year with the man we all looked up to and admire for all the hard work and strength he has shown throughout our lives with him. For the rest of my life, I’ll never have a hero quite like my father. We may have our grievances and misunderstandings, but that’s all part of the father-son relationship. If I grow to become half the man he is, I’ll know that I have accomplished something great.

Hope you have a wonderful birthday, Dad. You’re 52, and you STILL can’t strike me out.

Love ya, pops.

From left to right-Brother Tommy, Dad, Me

Writer’s Block

Hey everyone. Sorry for the “lackage” of blog posts. I’ve been pretty busy with my two jobs and summer class. BUT today’s post is more of a poll than anything. I have a few ideas of what I want to write about, but I don’t know which ones YOU want to read. So, here’s a poll:

So tell me what ya think. I’ll be checking this daily and I got a few stories in the works and hopefully will be getting them posted within the next few days/weeks.

Thanks to everyone and keep reading!

Eric Hollenbach

Summer Shindigs, Family Feuds, and Learning Curves

Sorry for the delay in posts, it’s been a bit hectic these last few weeks. Any who, after the rough start to summer, things started to pick up. Moved back to Columbia, got my mind off things, lived the life of watching Cardinals’ games and drinking a few ice cold beverages with the COMO crew. But wouldn’t ya’ know it, life has thrown a few more curveballs my way. (See St. Louis Post Dispatch for previous article regarding me and my baseball metaphors for life).

But in all reality, things aren’t that bad. I got a great family, a strong one at that, many friends, and a great career left here at Mizzou. But let’s go back to about a week and a half ago….

If any of you know my family, particularly my brother and father, then you’ll know where this is going. Over the last few years, my brother and father have shared a few words, some being pretty heated ones. Anyway, they argue alot and I believe it’s because they are both relatively the same person…to an extent. They both take no shit, hard nosed, stubborn, and have the attitude of a raging bull. So when they get into arguments, they both know neither of them is going to back down. In this most recent debacle, my brother had shown up a few minutes late to work, showed a bit of an attitude towards my father, and left/got fired (I’m not sure) and packed all he had into a sack and started driving towards the 573…ahem….that’s Columbia…

Wouldn’t you know it, Tommy’s battle scarred truck made it to a dinky little gas station in Danville, Missouri, a nice 40 minute drive from Columbia. Me, being the awesome brother I am, stopped what I was doing and drove to Danville to come to the rescue. At this point, I hadn’t got the whole story, just an emotional sibling ranting like so many other times. So I was just doing my job as a brother…still waiting on that check by the way.

After picking him up, distraught and angry, I took him back to the place I now call home and brought him along to a birthday shindig at the Jensen/Cornell residence. My friend Tim (Jensen) was having a few people over for a birthday get together and we had a good night…for my brother, a great night. Most of my Columbia friends had already met Tommy, so it wasn’t hard for him to mingle amongst the crowd, not that it’s ever been hard for him.

The next two nights we did pretty much the same thing. Friends from school had come from all over, mainly the Poplar Bluff area, and we enjoyed each others company. Again, Tommy seemed to really enjoy all the new friends, as well as the others enjoying him.

After the few days of partying and relaxation, it was time to set things straight with my father and brother again. Dad made the trek 2 hours west and had a heart to heart with brother Thomas and I. Mainly to get him focused on life and where he wants to be come fall. I agreed whole heartedly with my Dad. Tommy needs to wake up a bit. Real life isn’t going to slow down just because a few road bumps are coming. While I understand the youth in Tommy’s actions, I know that he must find out things on his own. Make his own decisions, build his own career. So, for now, Tommy is staying with me in my little apartment at Campus View. Helping him every step, but letting him find his own way is the hardest.

To be perfectly honest, it’s been great having him here, despite the craziness of the happenstance. Things had gotten a little rough for me and it wasn’t doing me any good being alone so much. With Tommy, I have someone to talk to about anything. And to make matters better, he’s my own flesh and blood. He’s a bit sloppy when it comes to being a roommate, but when it comes to being a brother, he does quite well. He’s got my back.

I was talking on the phone with my mother the other day and she was going on about what Tommy had told her, saying how much he loves Columbia and how all my friends that he has met have now become his own and he loves it. But the best part was this: My mom asked him why he liked it so much here and he said, “I’m up here with my best friend.”

And as she teared up telling me the story…so did I.

Love ya bro. Keep truckin’ and you’ll do just fine.

Me and Broseph after his graduation

This One’s for You

Nick Sotiropoulos, in yellow, along with myself (right), Austin (giving the love hug), and his brother Mike.

This is going to be tough…

Throughout my life, I have met many people, seen many things, and experienced all the ups and downs that life has to offer. But I will never ever know a person quite like Nick Sotiropoulos.

Nick was one of those kids everyone wanted to be around. Smiling, laughing, enjoying life were just a few things he could be found doing on a daily basis. I especially remember Nick on the ball field. Playing on many baseball teams during the summers, Nick, along with his brother Mike, was a huge part of our team. Being the honorary bat boy, Nick got the pleasure of listening to a bunch of adolescent boys share their tales of girls, baseball, and other things. But not once did I see Nick come to the ball field with a sad face. Everyday Nick came in, he had the biggest smile on, gave a few pointers to everyone on the team (including a few to my father, the coach), and just simply enjoyed being around his hometown heroes. Nick always came to the games prepared. Helmet in hand, batting gloves fastened, and jersey tucked in, Nick paced up and down the dugout, waiting for the next chance to give some feedback to the team.

Sadly, Nick struggled with cancer throughout most of his life. But looking at him, you could never tell he was in any sort of pain. Nick was always there with a smile, always there with a joke, always there with anything you wanted.

Through most of the summers when Nick was alongside our teams, I never really took into account how much he might have looked up to myself, as well as the rest of the team. He wanted to be with “the guys.” Share our triumphs, rejoice in our successes, and mope about or failures. To him, just being part of such a tight nit group of guys must have meant the world to him.

The summer after my junior year in high school, Nick had been stricken ill again, and missed the majority of our baseball games. I could see it in the eyes of each and every player. Something wasn’t right. We weren’t the same team without numero uno. But even in his pain, Nick would occasionally pop up, showing the same fight, happiness, and laughter that we all came to know and love. Just seeing him at our games gave the team a spark that no one else could give. He was as much a part of the team as any player on the roster.

On May 3rd, 2009, Nick Sotiropoulos lost his battle with cancer. For the first time in a real long time, I cried. I sulked in my chair at a sparsely populated auditorium and just cried. Nick meant a lot to me, to my family, and to everyone he ever came into contact with. But in the sadness of the day, I took time to look back at all the great things that have happened by just having the privilege of knowing such a great kid. Not once during his entire struggle did I ever see Nick in a bad mood, sad, or sulky. Every time I got a chance to see him, he was always the same, happy, chipper, and quick to make a joke about my school of choice. Nick always seem to put a smile on my face, even when things weren’t necessarily great for him.

I will never forget Nick. Knowing a kid like him, I truly believe I have become a greater person. Even though he may not know it, he has taught me many things. Through Nick, I have learned to always see the good in things, to always be happy even when things aren’t looking so good, to love and cherish all those around you and the things we all share. I am truly blessed to have known Nick. I know he is finally free of the pain he has suffered and he is smiling down upon all of us with his jersey on, helmet in hand, baseball cap shading his eyes, and huge smile right across his face.

We are all going to miss you, Nick. You have touched the lives of so many and for that I, as well as everyone else you have come to know and love, are grateful.

This one’s for you, Nick.

For Every King, an Heir.

Halloween G7 Style

Ok, so that title has nothing to do with this post…I just thought of those “Crown Royal” commercials. Anyway, the topic of this post is more of a continuation of the previous one. Looking back, I’ve had it pretty good these last 8 months. With all the memories and friends that I made, how could I not absolutely love the University of Missouri-Columbia? (Yes, I just used its full name).

Let’s go back. To about the 2nd week in June. Here I was, eager little freshman-to-be arriving in Columbia for “Summer Welcome.” The sun was shining, the campus was buzzing, and I was in heaven. After a quick tour around the campus, I soon found myself distracted from all the beauty that Mizzou’s campus has to offer. I remember standing on one of the columns, shouting to my Dad to take a picture. Not to my surprise, we had no memory card and the battery was dead. As I looked into the cloud-less sky, I knew right then I was home. Of course, the rest of “Summer Welcome” was long, drug out, and for the most part, boring. I got my student ID card, ordered my computer, and went back home to await the next month and a half for when I could move in.

August 19th, 2009-Move in day. As previously described, my father, brother, and myself crammed into a van (owned by my Dad’s grocery store) and headed down to Columbia. The day wasn’t so bad, heat wise. As we arrived, I noticed hundreds of eager students, like myself, rushing in and out, shouting commands at their parents, telling them where to put there stuff. For me, my move in experience was a little different. My father and brother helped me with the majority of the move, bringing all my belongings with me from home. My mother and aunt came down a few hours later to help me organize and take me shopping for food and anything else I was missing. Having parents that are divorced, it was a little tough for me to see everyones parents helping their child, together, move into the dorms and then to look at my parents, whom at that point couldn’t bare to be around each other…I won’t divulge into the divorce…maybe for another post.

After everything was packed, I had gotten all my food and supplies, and my family headed back east, it was time to make some new friends. I’ll never forget the first thing that someone told me the day I moved in. It will forever go down as my first college “interaction.” As I put down my floor mat (the Mizzou football one), I heard a voice from across the hall say “bitchin’ doormat dude.” Thank you, Austin Alonzo. That night, I continued to mingle with my fellow 7th floor inhabitants and even found a party to stroll down to. I’m proud to say that Tim Jensen and Todd Tumminia accompanied myself to Sigma Tau fraternity to party it up with the people of greek town.

Over the summer, I began making contact with my roommate, coordinating who would bring what. So it was to my surprise that on move in day, Mr. Anthony Thompson was nowhere to be found. A slight mis-communication on Anthony’s dad’s work schedule caused him to miss the first few exciting days of college…sucks for you, Anthony. Upon his arrival, we wasted no time to adventure out into greek town once more. We stumbled (literally) upon the guys of Sigma Pi, and went to many a “rush party” at their annex, running the tables all night. It was there that Anthony and I came up with our plan to take on Chase Daniel and Jeremy Maclin in BP…sadly that dream never came to fruition. It was there that I met, coincidentally, some of the girls on our floor: Rachael Amick, Kelly Goldthorpe, Lauren Omahen, Trupti Rami. Ahh fast times at Sig Pi.

Reminiscing on the early days of college makes me sad, but at the same time, happy. For I made a bunch of great friends and even greater memories. As I began to make more friends, and Anthony and I got more bored (see retarded music videos on facebook), I certainly developed into my own person. Is it much different from who I was in high school? Maybe. Do I really care? Not really.

What I do care about is my school. Ever since I was 8 years old I remember my father talking about Mizzou athletics. As I grew older, I became a fan of the school too. Coming here, experiencing the thrill of the first few weeks, and feeling the pain and suffering of classes (eh, it’s not so bad), has made me even more ecstatic about Mizzou. I’m looking forward to the following years and all the good times it will bring.

“For every King, an heir. For every King, a crown. Crown Royal. Please drink responsibly”

See, I got it in there somehow…

End of the Line

Due to my last post, a friend has pointed out to me that I must insinuate many manly acts to gain my respect back. So, Austin, I just farted, scratched my balls a few times, drank the last of my beer, belched in this random girl’s face, scratched my ass, and made many sexual innuendos towards attractive females. Manly enough for ya?

Anyway, now that that’s out of the way, on to the memories of one of the most enjoyable years of my life: freshman year in college. 

I stepped out of the cramped van, took a step back, looked at all the crap shoved into it, and glanced at the 7-story high building in front of me. Sweltering in the late summer heat, my father, brother and I began to lug my belongings up seven flights of stairs to my new home, Gillett Hall. After everything was unpacked, my parents had both come and gone, and I made a few friends, it was time for night out around my new town. Ahh Sigma Tau. (Todd, Tim, you know what I’m talking about).

That, believe it or not, was 8 months ago. Through these 8 lightning fast months, I’ve made many new friends, stayed close with some old ones, and made many new memories that will last me a lifetime. 

Like Halloween, where half of the seventh floor came together and made whimsical costumes and went out for a bash that will go down in the record books as one of the best nights on campus. I, being the creative wizard I am, made a costume out of the clothes I had. See “Mormon” outfit.

Like the numerous football games and all the great times they brought. There’s Austin, a bit inebriated from an Antler activity, yelling at the refs for “sucking professional cock.”  There’s the Tiger’s Lair administrators, who at times got really flipping annoying. There’s our entire row of friends, sitting in the unusual heat of October watching Buffalo get romped, leaving us all with awesome sunburns.

Like the basketball season, which brought us 18 straight home game thrillers, earning W’s in each one. Lest we forget the game against kU. The final seconds in which Zaire Taylor turned the knife in kU’s chest. We saw us rush the court as FRESHMAN! Something that most students dream about doing in a whole college career. 

These, as just a few of the memories of year one, trademark an outstanding year. As I can’t highlight all of them, I will reminisce on the ones that stood out. I hope my college career brings many more memories, of which I can only imagine them being better than year one.

May 14th, I’ll pack up my things, load up the van, drive 2 hours back to St. Louis, and begin a long, grueling summer filled with work, school, and a little bit of play. But in just three short months, I’ll be packing up again. I’ll be moving into a new building, making new friends, and going out on more adventures around town. 

Hope to see you there.

Easter

Ok, before I offend anyone, let it be known that I do NOT hate on any religion. The following is just my thought on religion and its role in my life. BE OPEN!

Anyway, the last few days have been kind of interesting. I came home for Easter, which was a surprise in my book, being my family hasn’t historically celebrated this day too often. Witnessing the events of the past few days with friends and family, I feel that i should share with you my opinion about religion.

It al started when my good friend, Austin Panger, and I sat down and watched Bill Mauer’s “Religulous.” It got me thinking about religion and its affect on my life…close to none. My father was raised Catholic and now is very adamantly against it. I myself was baptized under the United Church of Christ–Evangelical Reform. I never really went to church as a kid and even less so as I grew older. It’s just not for me.

I can see why people take comfort in believing what their religion tells them, and if that works for you, then good. But, for me, I don’t see the point. NO I am NOT a pagan….NO I am NOT an atheist. I DO believe in a higher authority but I just don’t see the need for organized religion. Since the beginning of time, violence and hatred has stemmed directly from religion. People die everyday due to so called “acts of God.” Can somebody please tell me what God wants you to kill to protect certain beliefs? What all powerful, yet peaceful God wants violence and bloodshed to occur in his name? While organized religion can do very good things, like raise money for families in need, provide hope for struggling people, give light to the ones who need it, sometimes I wonder what really goes on.

I’m glad people find comfort in the stories of Jesus and his followers. I’m glad people can put all their hopes and dreams into some form of higher being. If it gives you comfort and it makes you happy and a better person, good for you. It’s just not for me. I just ask one thing. Don’t push your beliefs on me. I am who I am and I love the person I have become. Through my parents, I have learned to be loving to the ones I care for. Through friends I have learned compassion and trust while establishing morals and standards at the same time. Through sports and culture I have learned the art of teamwork and friendship. No church has ever taught me anything I have learned. Is it a bad thing? Maybe. Am I a horrible person for thinking this way? Absolutely not.

So when you come to my door and claim that the Lord can save me, I’ll tell you to get the hell off my porch. I don’t need to be saved. I have friends. I have family. I have a wonderful, loving woman in my life. I have everything in the world that I could possibly want. Sorry, but I don’t need your religion.

Love and Baseball

As summer begins to roll around, kids rejoice in jubilee because school is out, and teens and adults all over the nation celebrate the most anticipated season of all, summer. For many, summer is about long nights under stars, rendezvous with lost friends, and quality time with family. But for me, summer is much more…

Cardinal baseball (thought this was going to be a mushy, mushy, “oh so serious” post, huh?).

If you know me well, then you know that I have two loves in life: Sarah Laney and Cardinal baseball. While there will be plenty of blogs about both, this one is dedicated to anyone who doned the red and white.

This season is filled with optimism as many questions are posed and hope for the future hits the diamond. Being a spoiled fan (growing up with the teams of the late 90’s and the world series teams of ‘04 and ‘06), anything less than a playoff appearance is unacceptable. Ha, but in all reality, I am especially looking forward this season for three reasons:

1.) Albert Pujols

“El Hombre” has put up ridiculous numbers through his first 8 (count ‘em, eight) seasons in the big leagues. Pujols has never hit less than .314, has never hit less than 32 homers, and has never driven in less than 103 runs. Not to mention that in all of his career, the man has never (including his rookie season!) finished out of the top ten for the MVP. Pujols will always give me a reason to love the Cardinals and he is the reason fans fill Busch Stadium day in and day out. This one’s for you, Albert.

2.) Exciting, “ceiling-less potential” rookies

Ever since 2005, Cardinals fans all over have been pondering one question: “When will Colby Rasmus done the red and white and solidify his place as one of the Cardinals’ all-time great outfielders?” Upon Rasmus’ selection, much has been hyped about this seemingly amazing youngster (age 22) who has a knack for hitting, fielding, and, heck, anything that has to do with baseball. This year, that question will be answered as Rasmus has made the Opening Day roster. Hopefully all the hype is true and Rasmus etches his name in their with all the other greats. Another exciting rookie, David Freese, is another one to look out for. Hometown boy, alum of Lafayette High School in St. Louis, many fans are excited to see someone from their own backyard “put on for their city.” Freese has an exceptional glove (drawing comparisons to Scott Rolen, David Wright), and an above average bat. Hopefully this hometown hero can pull through. Along with Rasmus and Freese, Joe Thurston and Brian Barden join the gang. While these two are “technically” rookies, they bring a young spark to the team that much of the fans are looking forward to. Here’s to you, young guys.

3.) Rick Ankiel

Before I go off on another tangent, I have to call a “NO HOMO.” Any man knows that man crushes are totally legit, and are in no way meant to be considered homosexual…not that that’s a bad thing… Anyway, Rick “The Stick” Ankiel burst onto the scene long ago (like 10 years) as a young, “ceiling-lessly talented (look above)” rookie pitcher with a dynamite fastball and a wicked curve…Well, that didn’t go so hot and now he’s a homerun hitting, rocket launching, go getting centerfielder. Ankiel’s story is one of the greatest stories to ever grace the history of baseball. Now, an established outfielder, Ankiel looks to improve on a year that was cut a bit short due to injuries. Note that Ank’ still yacked 25 dingers in about 90 games. This kid provides hope for each and every player and fan throughout the organization and that’s why I go to the games. No matter how bad we may lose, just look to Ankiel. I mean, hey, the guy was a pitcher, suffered a massive mental breakdown, came back as an outfielder, and is a professional baseball player again. If that doesn’t scream “It’s ok that we lost 80 games, we will still win the world series,” then I don’t know what does. This one’s for you, Richard Alexander Ankiel…in fact, make it two.

Ok, there you have it. My quick, evaluation of what makes the Cardinals tick. Who knows how the summer will look for these men. If we lose 100 games, guess who’s still going to be sitting in the upper upper deck with a hot dog and binoculars, screaming my heart out…this guy. I love the St. Louis Cardinals, always will. Summer means baseball, baseball means joy. I love the summer.