Can 'o Corn

Here's a true story:

I'm at a ballgame at the old Busch (and from now on I'll only refer to the "old Busch" as "The Cougar" and the "new Busch" as "The Lolita") and a huge hulking of a man steps to the plate. It's Mark McGuire. He gets a pitch right where he likes it, and he swings for the fences. The ball just towers in the air, and the entire stadium instantly is on it's feet. I'm not kidding, every single person but me stood up. And I'm thinking, "what's the big deal?" And as the crowd roars and anticipates fireworks or a home run trot, the shortstop takes two steps back and catches it just off the infield. No joke. The entire stadium jumped up and cheered for a pop out to short. For "the world's greatest fans" they are TERRIBLE judges of distance.

Unfortunately The Lolita is still plagued with this problem. Every time a batter sends the ball in the air (especially Pujols) the stadium erupts, up on it's feet, assuming a home run. And it rarely is. And usually, it's not even close.

And keep in mind this is coming from a guy who stands at the plate, flips his bat, then Cadillac's to first every time he makes contact in a softball game, even when the ball has little to no chance of going out. So I know a thing or two about getting over-excited for no reason.

So let's settle down, St. Louis. It's a can o' corn, not a long duck dong. Real fans know the difference.

St. Louis (baseball fans), you are a joke.