I read this morning an article in a bay area newspaper that asserted that the
San Francisco Giants, and not the St. Louis Cardinals, were this year's team of
destiny, and that St. Louis fans could expect their beloved Cardinals to bow to
the Giants, a greater team. What surprises me most is not that this sentiment
runs prevalently among San Francisco fans but among bay area sports writers, who
haven't figured out the meaning of our pastime.

Baseball, our national pastime, is a vast allegory that turns on a vital contest
between two teams: the New York Yankees and the St. Louis Cardinals.

The Yankees are no doubt the evil empire of baseball. The Yanks represent
corporate America, big business, a conglomerate of super-salaried all-stars,
ringers yawning on the bench while other ringers exhibit half of the American
identity: the domination of Money, or the Fix. Everthing is already
predetermined in a Yankee victory because there arsenal dwarfs all others. The
Yankees live by pillaging the talent of small market teams.

The Cardinals represent the American individual's undying effort and spirited
labor harmonized with other like-minded individuals in pursuit of destroying the
Yankees and all that they represent. The Cardinals are from the heartland of
America, Mark Twain country, and demonstrate the other half of America's
identity: the indomitable spirit to fight against every Fix and predetermined
outcome confronted. Players leave big market teams to join the Cardinals because
their baseball souls find salvation and redemption in St. Louis, baseball's
heaven. The Cardinals embody romantic baseball, revel by showboating for the
sake of showboating, organize to bring out the beautiful game in baseball, and,
when they win, their victory belongs to all of baseball, to the pastime.

Baseball is an allegory about good and evil, what is best in us and what is
worst in us. The other twenty-eight teams are minor players on the stage. Some
of them have storied histories, and many of them have won the world series in
years which the Yankees or Cardinals did not, but all the other teams are
inferior versions of either the Yankees or the Cardinals or suffer the greater
crisis of trying to be both teams.

All honor to the Giants, and all honor to Barry Bonds--all the same, San
Francisco is not this year's team of destiny. The Giants must suffer another
loss to St. Louis in the National league Championships. The Giants are perhaps
no longer cursed with bad baseball karma, but they have not yet received the
blessings which make the St, Louis Cardinals the true team of America. The
Braves have always been pretenders to this title. What sports writers haven't
figured out is that baseball, as our national pastime, is a spiritual game.

What makes St. Louis this year's team of destiny is not how they dealt with
losses of Darryl Kile and Jack Buck; the Cardinals would have played this season
with dignity even if they had finished last in the league. St. Louis is this
year's team of destiny because our nation of baseball fans needs to be reminded
of what is best about our pastime and ourselves. This explains why the
significance of every world series won by the New York Yakees is found only in
reference to the next Cardinal championship. And why not? The Yankees are the
greatest ever in the American League and the Cardinals are the greatest ever in
the National League. Sports writers should be lamenting that we must wait
another year to see if the two greatest teams will face off in world series.