St. Louis Cardinals' Game 6 Rally Responsible for New Breed of ''Baseball Guy''

Sam BullardContributor IIINovember 3, 2011

''The best baseball game I've ever seen'' - Everyone

It was all but over. With the Texas Rangers leading the St. Louis Cardinals 7-5, bottom of the ninth, two outs and one strike away from the Rangers' first ever World Series...

Blah, blah, blah. Great game. Definitely one for the ages. Amazing for the game of baseball.

Once all the sparkle and euphoria fades from the amazing rally by the Cardinals, culminated by David Freese going yard to win it in the 11th, it will become exceedingly clear that the magnitude of this game will haunt sports fans for years to come. It created a whole new breed of ''Baseball Guy''.

You know "Baseball Guy." He knows John Olerud's OBP when batting against a flu-ish right hander on August 3rd. And it's never just one. They're like the Jedi. If you see one, there's another close by. Constantly one-upping the other's knowledge with their own annoying tidbit, it's a seemingly eternal cycle of pointlessness.

It's these "Guys" who make baseball really unattractive to follow for everyone else. Anyone who dares to try and start following baseball will be met with the same hostility as a...well, a normal person trying to associate with standoffish jerks.

I've never been a "Baseball Guy." I know football, I live for hockey and I'd never say no to a couple Dodgers tickets. That's about it. Any fire I had inside for getting into baseball was quickly extinguished by my first and last Fantasy Baseball Draft at the beginning of this season. The league—myself and nine "Baseball Guys." The sharks smelled blood in the water. Here's a quick peek into the drafting room:

Me: I'll take Lance Berkman.

Baseball Guy #1: Fat Lance? Fat chance!

Baseball Guy #2: He'll retire by noon!

Baseball Guy #3: Wanna just give me your money now, you stupid Canadian?

Yeah, I thought the Canadian jab was a bit out of line, too. My fantasy team ultimately lost. In the finals. With all their combined knowledge, none of my "Baseball Guy" friends could figure out how to beat me until the very end. Did this prove I knew more about baseball? Of course not. It proved how pointless all of what they knew actually was.

And for some personal vindication, ''Fat Lance'' didn't retire: He had 31 home-runs, a .301 batting average and 94 RBIs. Not to mention one of the most exciting game-tying RBIs in the history of the World Series.

Knowing what Joe Carter ate before his walk-off homer to win the '93 World Series doesn't mean you knew Mike Napoli was going to ignite down the stretch this season (I also took a lot of flack for picking Napoli up off waivers. Idiots). What it comes down to is the factoids spewed by a "Baseball Guy" are nothing more than a beating-of-the-chest in the direction of people who, frankly, just don't give a damn.

Just because you beat me in Trivial Pursuit doesn't make you smarter than me; it means you have just enough useless information to fill your tiny pie.

And the most bizarre trait of the "Baseball Guy?" He's a hypocrite. He lives and breathes stats, facts and numbers. He knows baseball history and lore like the inside of his hairy hand, yet he kicked the crap out of your little brother in high school for knowing too much about Star Trek? Classic.

The world doesn't need any more of these guys. And everything was looking pretty good until the stupid Cardinals' marquee heroics in Game 6. Now, thanks thanks to them, my MTV Generation can look forward to another era of obnoxious trivia about David Freese's body temperature during his last at bat, which no doubt will be swiftly followed by a witless ''cold as ice'' gem.