You Can't Make This Stuff Up!

In April 2010, thanks to the largesse of my employer, I went to St. Louis for a social media conference. Of course, the location was of my choosing, because the night before the conference, the Cardinals were hosting the Mets and it would be my first chance since 2007 to see the Cardinals play in person.

So it was that my wife and I saw Adam Wainwright pitch a complete game victory for the good guys. Fast forward to Christmas Eve day. I had done a little detective work and found Wainwright's home address in Georgia. I penned a gushing fan letter and sent it off, along with a photo of him I had taken at that game. I respectfully asked him to sign the photo and send it back in the convenient pre-stamped and addressed envelope.

About seven weeks later, just as spring training was about to get started, that envelope made its way back to me. The signed 8x10 now sits on a shelf of a bookcase in my home office. That was cool and all...but it was just a few days later when news came out that Wainwright would have to undergo season ending ligament replacement surgery (i.e., Tommy John surgery). I morbidly joked at the time that the effort it took Wainwright to sign my picture was the last little thing that tore the ligament.

All joking aside, the Twitterverse was all doom and gloom at the news, and I wasn't far off. How in the world could the Cardinals win the NL Central, much less reach the World Series, without Waino? When it came time for me to make my season predictions, I did throw caution to the wind and said the Cards would win the Wild Card, but beyond that....how far would they go?

As I write this, they are one game away from winning the 2011 World Series. First pitch is in less than five hours. It's been an insane journey to get even this far. And the most insane instance of all was last night's Game 6.

Sports can be a powerful teacher of so much: never giving up, staying disciplined, the transcendent gift of talent, and, to use a cliche, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. Last night's game was plenty ugly until about the bottom of the 7th. One might even say that's when it was ugliest, after the Rangers had taken a 7-4 lead, their biggest of the night, and then the Cardinals go quickly, 1-2-3. Then, it was as if we (or at least the Cardinals fans) were watching Picasso painting, or Mozart composing, or Led Zeppelin performing (okay, you get the idea).

But then a glimmer of hope. Rangers go 1-2-3 in the top of the 8th, and the Cards get a run back in the bottom on a solid homer. Top of the 9th, Rangers get a man on but can't score. Magic was about to happen...but only for the first time this night. With one out, Albert Pujols in what could have again been his last AB as a Cardinal, stroked a solid liner to the gap for a double. Berkman walked, and Craig struck out. So, two on, two out, needing two runs to tie and keep the season alive.

This is the part you can't make up.

Coming to the plate was David Freese. No slouch with the bat, he was the NLCS MVP. Up to this point, he'd had a decent World Series, but he was not at all in the MVP conversation. Season on the line, facing a tough closer for the first time, and he's down in the count 1-2. In other words, the Rangers are one strike away from winning the World Series. So what does Freese do? Only launch a screaming triple off the right field wall (which more than likely could have been caught, given a better effort), scoring two runs and saving the season...for now.

Oh, forgot to mention, Freese is also a home town kid. Who comes up with this stuff? It just doesn't happen!

Winning run now 90 feet away, and Yadi Molina at the plate. He's had some clutch hits in his career, but not this time. We go top of the 10th...and in a blink the Rangers are up 9-7 on a Josh Hamilton homer, his first of the postseason. You can't make up this shi....stuff. Sure, Hamilton is an unbelievable hitter, but due to a sports hernia (I think that's what they said), he wasn't been able to put a lot of power into his swing. But when the Cardinals reliever is hucking it at 98 or 99, all Hamilton has to do is put the bat on it and let physics do the rest.

Put a fork in 'em, right? Nope. More magic. After scoring on a ground-out to make it 9-8, the tying run is on second. I like the way Jayson Stark sets it up [even though he's wrong; tying run was on second]:

There were two outs in the 10th. It was a 9-8 game. The tying run was on third, thanks to a not-exactly-textbook bunt by -- don't even ask us how it came to this -- a pitcher (Kyle Lohse) who was hitting for another pitcher (Edwin Jackson) who was announced as the pinch-hitter for a third pitcher (Motte). And Pujols had just been intentionally walked by the Rangers for the fifth time in three games.

So, Berkman at the plate. I used to hate Berkman, and who wouldn't? (I kid). He was always a clutch hitter for the Astros against the Cards for years and years. When the Cards signed him, I wasn't expecting much. And then, all he did was have a season that will get him MVP votes. He came up big all season. He was having a solid World Series. All he needed was a simple hit. I told that to his image on the TV in my home. He had two strikes against him (again, the Rangers were one strike away). I told him, "Puma, you're a professional hitter, you can do this." My wife told me, "Whatever happens, don't wake up the kids."

I think I need to send Berkman a fan letter and tell him how much I love his guts. All he did was lace one into shallow right-center, scoring the tying run. Again, winning run is 90 feet away, but Alan Craig can't cash in.

Top 11: Rangers get a man on, but can't cash in.

One game, two men: the pitch and the batter. They would decide this thing in the bottom of the 11th. It's that home-town kid again, David Freese.

You just can't make this stuff up!

Again, with two strikes against him (but without the do-or-die circumstances), David Freese puts a bow on this gift of a game by launching a 3-2 change-up to near dead center field, on the grass of the hitter's background, and St. Louis erupts. How I didn't wake up the kids with that one I'll never know. It was unforgettable in every way.

One of the great aspects of this post-season run is that, especially later in the NLDS and from then on, I have been watching these games with my wife, and even with our older two girls lately. We have some amazing memories from the playoffs.

Also, because my oldest daughter asked me to blog about it anyway, something must be said about Albert Pujols' historic Game 3 performance: 6 ABs, 4 runs, 5 hits, 3 HR, 6 RBI.

But for it to be meaningful beyond 2011, one more good thing needs to happen. In comments yesterday, Lance Berkman, the Big Puma himself, said "The reality is that, if we don't win tomorrow, this game becomes just a footnote to a nice season. But if we win tomorrow this is the stuff of legends."

That's an echo of what I had been saying about Albert's Game 3 performance. That and Game 6 were both historic and entirely memorable. But, without one more W for 2011, without popping that champagne and making it mean more than a (remarkable) memory, they have to seal the deal.

I was wondering this morning if there will be a "hangover" effect from such a dramatic win. With this team, I think that's highly unlikely. They didn't letdown or let up after winning the Wild Card on the last day. They didn't worry when the Phillies smacked them around pretty good in Game 1 of the NLDS. They didn't let the specter of Roy Halladay pitching the deciding Game 5 daunt them. And in Game 1 of the NLCS, when the Brewers did roughly the same as what the Phillies did in NLDS Game 1, they bounced right back.

In 2004, Jim Edmonds hit an extra-inning home run against the Astros to force a Game 7 in the NLCS. The Cardinals won that Game 7. In 2005, down by two runs in the top of the 9th, with two out and two on, Albert Pujols utterly destroyed a Brad Lidge slider to put the Cardinals on top (I don't think that ball has landed yet). That blast forced a Game 6 in the NLCS, which the Cardinals lost.

Last night was about heart, determination, focus, effort. No way these Cards fold when they just need one more.

Will the Rangers fold? Will we see something like the '85 Royals cruising to a 10-0 easy win? It could happen...but chances are, the good guys will be in for a dog fight the whole way. How could it be any different?