The year was 1946; a young seven-year old boy from Washington Park (East St. Louis), Illinois would spend rainy days on a screened porch with his baseball cards and homemade-spinner device broadcasting his imaginary baseball game between his beloved Cardinals and the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Mel "Moe" Roustio, then and today, can readily recite the '46 Cardinals line-up: Leading-off and playing second base, #2 Red Schoendienst, batting second and playing center field, #8 Terry Moore, at first base and hitting third #6 Stan Musial, the cleanup hitter right fielder #9 Enos Slaughter, at third base and hitting fifth # 1 Whitey Kurowski, doing the catching and hitting sixth #17 Joe Garagiola, playing left field and hitting seventh #5 Harry Walker at shortstop and hitting eighth #4 Marty Marion and doing the pitching hitting ninth is #22 right-hander, Murry Dickson. Also on that team was a kid from Elkhart, Illinois, named Emil Verban. The manager was Eddie Dyer. They were World Series champs beating the Boston Red Sox in the 'fall classic.'
I spent my youth and early adult years playing the game I loved---baseball. I coached high school basketball and baseball teams for thirty-nine years and put my heart and energies into each teams' preparation. Except for the teams I coached there has been only ONE team that I have followed with unmatched passion...the St. Louis Cardinals. My loyal devotion to that team defies logic and ignores reason. I know that it IS what it IS because of a Father-Son relationship that remains today, tucked away in the private thoughts of my mind and visited frequently in those midnight-hours!
I shall watch the playoffs and angst with every pitch rooting for my 'Redbirds.' I will cheer aloud and curse the same as each play finds a conclusion. Throughout the games, I will have flashes of precious and sacred memories rushing through my brain recalling baseball moments shared with my Dad. I can hear his voice now, "Boy, don't ever stop hustling!"
I won't Dad; let's play ball!
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