Cardinals: Sign Me!

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As a baseball fan living in St. Louis, it’s been hard to watch the Cardinals get their collective Redbird bottoms handed to them by the Brewers this week. The Brewers took the Cardinals to the woodshed, sweeping them and perhaps their October baseball chances out the window, and last night’s 9^th inning collapse pained even the most apathetic Cardinal fan. But I’m a nomadic Yankee fan who’s lived in Nashville, Peoria, and of all places, Boston, during my childhood and don’t identify at all with Cardinal Nation. But my heart ached for the passionate Cardinal fans that sit there year after year, in the humidity that envelops Busch Stadium like it’s a Vietnamese POW camp with a beer garden. They watch their general managers sit on piles of cash like Saddam Hussein and count on a local kid from Golden Arm, Missouri to deliver them to the throne of the baseball world. It’s depressing to watch Cardinal fans cheer on their Birds, only to watch the trade deadline go by without picking up a player or two. Right now, it seems only trading for Clara Barton would help stop the bleeding --unless the Cardinal front office decides to do something drastic – like signing me to a free agent contract.

That’s right, I’ll pitch for the St. Louis Cardinals.

I pitched in high school at Peoria Notre Dame, compiling good numbers and got snubbed my senior year for an Honorable Mention All-Conference pick. As a lefty, I molded my game after Andy Pettitte and Steve Carlton – switching speeds, perfecting my mechanics and keeping base runners close with a pick-off move that had the umpires of the Midstate 6 Conference on alert. I didn’t have the greatest velocity for a pitcher. I maybe hit 83/84, but since high school, I’ve been on a solid weight training and conditioning program, so I think 85 might be in the cards for me. I haven’t thrown a bullpen session in over six years, but it’s like riding a bike. I’ll be ready after a few rehab starts in Springfield or Memphis.  I have a little late break on my two-seamer and bring a devastating change-up to the arsenal. I’ve got a good slider that moves in on a right-hander and usually approach lefties inside with a cutter. You’re drooling, I know.

I bring a quiet intensity to the mound. I go about my business and try to induce the ground ball. I’ve always thought I’d be a good addition for any Tony LaRussa-led squad. I tend to lead by example, and don’t like to show up my guys on the field. My approach to the game is to keep it simple – I’ll get them out, you give me some runs to work with. Being in the National League, I know my number will be called to take some hacks against the cream of the NL pitching crop – bring it on, I say. I’d love nothing more than to crank one out against the Mets, doing my best Yadier Molina, as I leap four inches off the ground in celebration.

To the Birds on the Bat – I’m ready. And I come cheap. Just put me up in a loft on Washington Ave., dangle some keys in front of me, and pay off my student loans to Saint Louis University and I’m all yours. I’m dead serious, unless we face the Yankees in the World Series, then I’ll lose my mechanics so fast you’ll think I’m Rick Ankiel.

Let me help heal the wounds. St. Louis is hurting. We just lost Anheuser -Busch to a country I’m pretty sure isn’t even in the United Nations and Ryan Braun is their ruthless tyrant. Let’s not let the 2008 campaign slip away.

Sign me.

Go Cards (and Yanks),

Bobby Metzinger

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