Confluence and Heart

We talk a lot about confluence here in St. Louis, because here the country's two mightiest rivers meet and flow together.  The Mississippi flows down from the North, from Minnesota,  and the Missouri flows in from the West, from Montana, and they converge in river bottoms, and as they start their journey to the heart of the South the first high ground, on the west bank, is St. Louis. 

Tonight this town rings with another kind of confluence, and beats with a tremendous heart.  It's a baseball town, likes to think of itself as the baseball town, and it's the capital of a huge region, seven or eight states, surrounding the tradition of its baseball teams.  It used to have two, a National and an American League team, the Cardinals and the Browns.  The Browns have long moved on, but what remains is this fine ball club, the center of what we call, proudly but not too seriously,  Cardinal Nation:  the St. Louis Cardinals.

"Go Cards."  I've heard it ever since I moved here.  At times like this it replaces "good-bye" or "see ya" in our conversations.

Tonight this tradition converged with a team, and the team won the World Series.

This 2011 team is a miracle.  For the last week I, and many others, have said "Cards in Seven", and it's not just municipal pride.  I'd make this prediction - before Game Six - because  this team plays with its back to the wall like no other.  It has come back from the brink literally dozens of times since August.   But I didn't really know how  true and deep their heart was, until Game Six, when the team was down to its last out, last strike, two runs down  - twice - and came back and won.  The gamest, biggest-hearted team ever.

Game Seven, tonight, was kind of a victory lap.  Not the firestorm of Game Six.  Just a steady, confident final act, eliminating any lingering doubt. This is one of the greatest sports teams America has ever seen.