So I'm in Saint Louis for a couple of days looking for apartments for the next few years as I make like Eddie Johnson and become a Grown-Ass Man. Well, not really because it's just grad school, but still. I'm moving to Saint Louis. And I figured I would take the opportunity to go to Cardinals-Tigers tonight because, well, its baseball. I didn't bring a camera, though, but it's ok because you're not missing much.

 

 

Hahahaha The Jump is awesome. Anyways, the first thing you should know is that it is HOT over here. Like, mid-90s and face-meltingly humid. Which made introducing myself to future housemates a bit awkward: "Hey, what 'd you think of the guy who came in here to check the place out?" "Oh, you mean the sweaty dude who hasn't gotten a haircut in ages? Yeah, he's, um, nice."

 

First off, I think New Busch is not as nice as GABP. They're awfully similar, truth be told. But Busch has a few strikes against it:

• No local food. Sure, you could get toasted ravioli for 7 bucks. But no StL-style ribs, no Stl-style pizza. In less shocking news, no beer outside of Bud, Bud light, Bud Select.
• The main concourse of the stadium is placed behind home plate, which means that it is covered completely and you can't see the game. So when you are in line to grab something to eat, you can't even get a glimpse of the action (Nats stadium and Philly do this well, my memory is shady on GABP). When you have the ceiling painted like clouds, you should just have the damn thing open. Even on hot humid days, people aren't going to the concrete dungeon for respite, fellas.
• Brick and steel may go with the whole style and retro, but I prefer the pure white-and-red of GABP. I think its one of the prettiest modern parks out there. Busch looks a bit too warehouse-y and knockoff-Wrigley. The second one would probably kill the fans to hear. Sorry.
• The Ozzie Smith statue looks nothing, nothing, like Ozzie Smith. Courtesy of Gaslamp Ball:

  via assets.sbnation.com

  Great, you made the face of your franchise look like a burn victim with a beard.

I don't mean to sound too cynical, it was a baseball game, it was a lovely night, and St. Louisians are some of the friendliest people I've met. I got a $90 seat right behind home plate for $30, and I ended up chatting a bit with the woman who sold the ticket to the scalper for $10. I really have nothing bad to say about the city itself, as long as you stay out of the parts that have seething poverty.

And if anyone ends up going to Saint Louis to catch a game, the Metrolink Light Rail is entirely on the honor system...except at Busch Stadium where you actually have to buy a pass. I couldn't even play the "hey, I'm an out of towner [I pretended I was from Detroit and the idea of Mass Transit frightened me. No dice]"

So the game was pretty bland, I must say. Porcello wasn't as dominating as I hoped. Something frightening happened to Joel Piniero that I'm sure we'll hear about later. Pujols coming up for a pinch-hit groundout was fun to watch. Khalil Greene got WAY to big of an applause (when I saw that the starting SS was "Greene" I automatically assumed it was Khalil. Who the hell is Tyler? Is he Bahai'i too?)

 

Here are my notes I saved on my phone from the game

• Americorps does recycling at the game. Poor folks. Some Americorps get to do trail crew at national parks, some pick up my beers. Them the breaks.
• Cardinals have cheerleaders like the Reds: same get-up and all. One cheerleader got way too into it, though. Remember the Cheerleading scene from The Replacements? Well, this girl was kind of like that. And the other cheerleaders were obviously kind of put off by it. Worth a giggle.
• As much as I don't want to like Skip Schumaker...his at-bat music is Brass Monkey. That's kind of cool, actually.
• Speaking of the Wizard of Oz, there's something fairly strange about seeing fat white dudes in SMITH 1 jerseys. I can't put my finger on it, but I find it stranger than any other jersey style.
• And speaking of jerseys, there was some dude with a personalized Cardinals #45 jersey. I was kind of hoping Bob Gibson (whose statue is nothing like Ozzie's, and is actually kind of scary in a Blink from Doctor Who sort of way) would show up and kick the dude's ass, screaming "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? LOOK AT MY STATS FROM '68, PUNK!"

That's it, y'all. Except more colorful reports from when the Reds come to Cleveland in a couple of weeks.