All you St. Louis Cardinals fans out there reading this, I have one question to ask you:
How many more times are we going to have to say goodbye to old Busch Stadium?
How many times are we going to gather around this old cement and steel edifice and pay homage to an old ballpark that just doesn't seem to want to go away quietly?A few scant months after its first, “regular season” goodbye, and just weeks after its final goodbye game (let’s not talk about the outcome here please… I’m still a tad upset about it… I mean… come on! Houston!? The freakin’ Astros???? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FU***** KIDDING ME!!!!!…Sorry, lost my head there for a moment. I’m okay now), A mere hours after it was supposed to be bid adieu by a colossal wrecking ball, the ol’ gal was still standing firmly and in one piece early Monday evening.
Thousands of Cardinals loyalists, cameras flashing, milled about outside the stadium, peeking through the fences and trying (in vain) to catch a glimpse of what was supposed to be a monumental destruction by a monumental wrecking ball.
What they saw… was incredibly anti-climactic. Monday, November 7, 2005 was supposed to be the day that Busch Memorial Stadium (Part Two) met its maker in order to make way for Busch Memorial Stadium Part Three. I mean, this was the day the wrecking ball was supposed to drop down with a virtuous fury and give the world a dramatic scene of a crumbling of a 39-year-old sports palace.After the first swing happened (it wasn’t even a swing… it was a drop) there was nary a nick on the stadium.
It didn't explode.
It didn't crumble.
It didn't crack.
It didn’t collapse (which can’t be said for the 2005 Cardinals…I mean come on! The Astros???? … sorry, lost my head again… I’m ok now)
Just after 3 p.m. you could see the big ball hanging just above the stadium roof, like a 1,000-pound pendulum (where’s a pit when you need one?) slowly swaying to and fro from the monster crane that was positioned inside the ballpark.One could just imagine what was to come next; a dramatic and colossal obliteration of a historical baseball relic.
Walls would cave in.
Roofs would crumble.
Witnesses would ooh and aah… (and maybe even shed a tear?)
Then again… maybe not.
It did not ram.
It did not rumble.
People came, I got online to watch, just so I can see the ‘breathless annihilation.’
But as the ball fell toward its target, all anyone got (whether you were standing there in person or watching it online like I was) was a weak and unspectacular... 'kerplunk.'
I didn't get online at work for… a ‘kerplunk.’
I wanted action damn-it!
But no… what I got, what we ALL got, was a ‘kerplunk.’
This was a letdown of epic proportions.
I mean; it was more a letdown than the series finale of “Seinfeld”. It was more a letdown than the viewing audience for this year’s World Series. It was even more of a letdown than “President” Bush has been for an alarmingly large segment of Republicans that voted for him last November…
People came looking for drama… looking for action.
Not for a ‘kerplunk.’