I HATE BASEBALL!!!!!!!!!!!

Albert Pujols first homer during the June 27th game.

Ok now that I have your attention……..

My mother always told me that “hate” was a strong word—dismissive, full of ignorance and negativity. She believed that what you should say is that you don’t understand something or someone. Then you should try to understand how others really feel.

I’m from the South—Nashville, Tennessee,  the country music capital of the world.  The first perception of Nashville is it seems that everything and everyone has been baptized in the well of country music.  Not me.

Fast forward now to my adopted home—St. Louis, Missouri—another river town that has been baptized in a few traditions of its own. BASEBALL!   Again, not me.

Through no fault of its own, baseball has not been good to me since my arrival.  I think we’re just destined to be at odds.   I mean what is the big deal?   It’s a ball and a pretty green field, and mostly hot or rainy.

I’ve dragged heavy equipment up and down the old stadium stairs and down and up in new Busch.

I’ve been cold and wet.

I’ve been hit by a foul ball.

Albert Pujols once stared at me so hard and long during the new Busch Stadium naming ceremony, that I could not use any of the pictures of him from that day.  He must have known, that I Hate Baseball!

That same day, to my editor’s dismay, I left out Bob Gibson in my photograph of all the Hall of Famers.  When I returned to the office he asked, where’s the picture of Bob Gibson?

My response –”Who’s Bob Gibson?”   Turns out he was guy at the end, who I left out of my frame, because he was throwing my composition off.

As you can see, over the years I’ve had my ups and downs with the sport.

But here is where my mother’s advice comes in handy.  I’ve since developed an understanding of the sport and how important and intergral it is to this community. That understanding has been since re-enforced with all the excitement surrounding the All-Star game. Recently we were asked to go out into the community and capture how Cardinals Baseball is enjoyed.

The day of the June 27th game, I spent my time in a local barber shop. The draw of the game was just as apparent there, with fans watching on the little television screen, as if they were season ticket holders down at the stadium.  I have an understanding of how the game bonds this community on all levels.  I have an understanding of  the love this community has for the game. And I have learned to respect it, in a way I never thought I would.

So on the rare occasion that my editors send me to cover a game, and some guy who has had maybe one too many Budweisers yells, “hey camera girl, take my picture,”  I’ll just smile and say “Go Cards!”