Luvofthegame
10-30-2006, 09:20 PM
By Todd C. Frankel
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
10/30/2006
Cardinal fans celebrated on Sunday with the team at a parade through downtown St. Louis and then at a rally at the new Busch Stadium.
(Karen Elshout/P-D)
It sounded like one long stadium curtain call. It looked like a horizonless sea of Cardinal red, as if every available Redbird shirt and hat had been pressed into service.
No more games to be played. But the 2006 season for the World Series champion St. Louis Cardinals was extended Sunday by one more day, for one last hurrah, allowing fans one final opportunity to cheer for the home team, one last chance to say thank you and, until next year, goodbye.
"The Cardinals are a way of life," said Teri Mack, a grandmother from St. Charles, as she stood with her family along the parade route. "This is what it is all about."
An estimated 500,000 fans — the count offered by the city's emergency management director, Gary Christmann — turned out to watch the team roll down Market Street in downtown St. Louis and into the stadium, where a 45-minute rally was held.
People stood 20 deep in places. It was among the largest parade crowds in the city's history.
"I've never seen anything like this," stadium usher Ruth Cruse said as she weaved through the throng, trying to get to work. "This is unbelievable."
The huge crowd created traffic headaches and parking problems. Police reported only one serious incident: a 45-year-old woman trying to get a better view fell 40 feet from a Spruce Street overpass shortly before the parade began. Police would not release her name but said she broke several bones and was in serious condition.
By parade time, the rain and cold that dogged all five World Series games against the Detroit Tigers were long gone. A perfect autumn day of sunshine and temperatures in the 70s greeted the faithful.
Fans were mindful that 24 years had passed since the last Cardinals' World Series title. An entire generation of fans had gone without knowing what it was like to win it all. So now fans of all ages wanted to savor it with a celebration.
"I may never live to see another one," said Donna Fencl, 64, of Fairview Heights. "And it's my first World Series (championship) experience," said her 17-year-old granddaughter, Shannon Lillis, who prides herself on being able to name the Cardinals' entire 40-man roster.
The parade featured school marching bands, Budweiser Clydesdales and the players standing in the backs of pickups. There went Aaron Miles dressed like a country singer, Jason Isringhausen in street clothes, Scott Spiezio in a black shirt and his trademark red soul patch, Scott Rolen holding his daughter, Ronnie Belliard in a gemstone-encrusted white ball cap, Jeff Suppan, Yadier Molina ...
"No one is wearing red today," noted Bob Muich of Red Bud as he watched the parade with his daughter on his shoulders.
He was right. Of all the players, only outfielder John Rodriguez wore a Cardinals jacket and hat.
Jeff Weaver, who got the win in the final World Series game, rolled by the Muich family.
"Remember watching Weaver the other night?" Bob Muich asked Rebecca, 8.
Then there was Adam Wainwright, the young closer who doffed his cap in their direction.
"There's the guy you wanted to see, honey," Bob Muich said.
But she was distracted by another car.
"Carpenter!" Rebecca cried out, pointing. "Carpenter, Dad! Carpenter!"
More than 45,000 fans packed into the stadium for the rally. The tickets were free, but they went fast. Some fans were willing to pay to get in. Debbie Birchfield and Kevin Wood, both from Des Peres, paid $500 for two tickets — equal to the face value of high-end World Series tickets.
As with any parade, the politicians turned out. Gov. Matt Blunt, St. Louis County Executive Charlie A. Dooley and St. Louis Mayor Francis Slay gave brief speeches.
The team owner and senior managers followed. Team president Mark Lamping promised Opening Day 2007 would be "the most memorable, colorful and exciting Opening Day in the history of the St. Louis Cardinals."
A small stage sat over second base as afternoon shadows crept along the infield. Manager Tony La Russa walked from the dugout, followed by the entire team. "Ladies and gentlemen," said radio announcer Mike Shannon, "your 2006 World Champion St. Louis Cardinals!"
The crowd, as Jack Buck once said, went crazy. People were on their feet, clapping and whistling, as if Albert Pujols had just knocked a game-winner into the stands.
Amid a chant of "Tony! Tony!", LaRussa, wearing a black shirt reading "Smooch your pooch," razzed relief pitcher Tyler Johnson and outfielder Chris Duncan about partying all night long after the World Series.
"I just hope they quit celebrating before spring training in '07," he said, breaking a faint smile.
The event then took on a talk-show format, with radio announcer John Rooney interviewing some of the players.
LaRussa then introduced the parade's unfamiliar faces — the team trainers, coaches and staff. Missing was popular third-base coach Jose Oquendo, who was on an unavoidable trip to help his daughter prepare for college.
Then each player was introduced.
And it was over. Music played. The crowd cheered. Fireworks erupted into the afternoon sky. The players and staff walked off the stage, headed for the dugout.
The stage was empty except for the World Series trophy. The revered symbol of a championship sat there. Alone. Did they forget it?
A minute later, Rodriguez jogged back across the infield and rescued the trophy. He carried it toward the dugout and handed it to Edmonds, who held it high for everyone in the stadium to see.
Edmonds, with the trophy safely tucked under one arm, waved to the crowd and disappeared into the dugout
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
10/30/2006
Cardinal fans celebrated on Sunday with the team at a parade through downtown St. Louis and then at a rally at the new Busch Stadium.
(Karen Elshout/P-D)
It sounded like one long stadium curtain call. It looked like a horizonless sea of Cardinal red, as if every available Redbird shirt and hat had been pressed into service.
No more games to be played. But the 2006 season for the World Series champion St. Louis Cardinals was extended Sunday by one more day, for one last hurrah, allowing fans one final opportunity to cheer for the home team, one last chance to say thank you and, until next year, goodbye.
"The Cardinals are a way of life," said Teri Mack, a grandmother from St. Charles, as she stood with her family along the parade route. "This is what it is all about."
An estimated 500,000 fans — the count offered by the city's emergency management director, Gary Christmann — turned out to watch the team roll down Market Street in downtown St. Louis and into the stadium, where a 45-minute rally was held.
People stood 20 deep in places. It was among the largest parade crowds in the city's history.
"I've never seen anything like this," stadium usher Ruth Cruse said as she weaved through the throng, trying to get to work. "This is unbelievable."
The huge crowd created traffic headaches and parking problems. Police reported only one serious incident: a 45-year-old woman trying to get a better view fell 40 feet from a Spruce Street overpass shortly before the parade began. Police would not release her name but said she broke several bones and was in serious condition.
By parade time, the rain and cold that dogged all five World Series games against the Detroit Tigers were long gone. A perfect autumn day of sunshine and temperatures in the 70s greeted the faithful.
Fans were mindful that 24 years had passed since the last Cardinals' World Series title. An entire generation of fans had gone without knowing what it was like to win it all. So now fans of all ages wanted to savor it with a celebration.
"I may never live to see another one," said Donna Fencl, 64, of Fairview Heights. "And it's my first World Series (championship) experience," said her 17-year-old granddaughter, Shannon Lillis, who prides herself on being able to name the Cardinals' entire 40-man roster.
The parade featured school marching bands, Budweiser Clydesdales and the players standing in the backs of pickups. There went Aaron Miles dressed like a country singer, Jason Isringhausen in street clothes, Scott Spiezio in a black shirt and his trademark red soul patch, Scott Rolen holding his daughter, Ronnie Belliard in a gemstone-encrusted white ball cap, Jeff Suppan, Yadier Molina ...
"No one is wearing red today," noted Bob Muich of Red Bud as he watched the parade with his daughter on his shoulders.
He was right. Of all the players, only outfielder John Rodriguez wore a Cardinals jacket and hat.
Jeff Weaver, who got the win in the final World Series game, rolled by the Muich family.
"Remember watching Weaver the other night?" Bob Muich asked Rebecca, 8.
Then there was Adam Wainwright, the young closer who doffed his cap in their direction.
"There's the guy you wanted to see, honey," Bob Muich said.
But she was distracted by another car.
"Carpenter!" Rebecca cried out, pointing. "Carpenter, Dad! Carpenter!"
More than 45,000 fans packed into the stadium for the rally. The tickets were free, but they went fast. Some fans were willing to pay to get in. Debbie Birchfield and Kevin Wood, both from Des Peres, paid $500 for two tickets — equal to the face value of high-end World Series tickets.
As with any parade, the politicians turned out. Gov. Matt Blunt, St. Louis County Executive Charlie A. Dooley and St. Louis Mayor Francis Slay gave brief speeches.
The team owner and senior managers followed. Team president Mark Lamping promised Opening Day 2007 would be "the most memorable, colorful and exciting Opening Day in the history of the St. Louis Cardinals."
A small stage sat over second base as afternoon shadows crept along the infield. Manager Tony La Russa walked from the dugout, followed by the entire team. "Ladies and gentlemen," said radio announcer Mike Shannon, "your 2006 World Champion St. Louis Cardinals!"
The crowd, as Jack Buck once said, went crazy. People were on their feet, clapping and whistling, as if Albert Pujols had just knocked a game-winner into the stands.
Amid a chant of "Tony! Tony!", LaRussa, wearing a black shirt reading "Smooch your pooch," razzed relief pitcher Tyler Johnson and outfielder Chris Duncan about partying all night long after the World Series.
"I just hope they quit celebrating before spring training in '07," he said, breaking a faint smile.
The event then took on a talk-show format, with radio announcer John Rooney interviewing some of the players.
LaRussa then introduced the parade's unfamiliar faces — the team trainers, coaches and staff. Missing was popular third-base coach Jose Oquendo, who was on an unavoidable trip to help his daughter prepare for college.
Then each player was introduced.
And it was over. Music played. The crowd cheered. Fireworks erupted into the afternoon sky. The players and staff walked off the stage, headed for the dugout.
The stage was empty except for the World Series trophy. The revered symbol of a championship sat there. Alone. Did they forget it?
A minute later, Rodriguez jogged back across the infield and rescued the trophy. He carried it toward the dugout and handed it to Edmonds, who held it high for everyone in the stadium to see.
Edmonds, with the trophy safely tucked under one arm, waved to the crowd and disappeared into the dugout