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An ode to Opening Day

The finest of any of the 365 days we receive. Opening Day. It's a tradition in 29 other cities, but truly, it belongs to baseball heaven.
Credit: Ronald Martinez
An exterior view of Busch Stadium before the start of Game Three of the NLDS during the 2009 MLB Playoffs between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Los Angeles Dodgers on October 10, 2009 in St. Louis, Missouri. (Photo by Ronald Martinez/Getty Images)

The skies are clearing and the sun’s coming out...because they know. They know that in this town, this day is THE holiday. The finest of any of the 365 days we receive. Opening Day. It’s a tradition in 29 other cities, but truly, it belongs to baseball heaven.

The streets will turn red, blue, robin’s egg, and white. From the banks of the Mississippi to corridors of Soulard, the bars of midtown, the pubs of the Central West End, the trails of Forest Park, to every classroom in every grade school in the bi-state, it’s our opening day, and no one else’s.

Rookie Jordan Hooks what it's like on your first home Opening Day

You had your shirt picked out the day pitchers and catchers reported, didn't you? Is it Stan, Ozzie, Willie, Lank, Albert? No? I bet it’s Yadi, or Waino. No matter the number or name across your back today, it’s the perfect attire on the most perfect day. And, if you’re lucky enough, you take your kid by the hand and lead them through the store. “We gotta get you a shirt for opening day! We have to get you a glove!" You look down and say in the most serious of tones, "This isn’t a shopping trip, this is a rite of passage.”

Mike Mayers on his first home opener experience

Maybe you’re lucky like me. Lucky enough to have the same best friend since you were ten. Shoot them a text like I did and wish them, “Happy Opening Day Dude!” A wish you’ve shared since Whitey was in the dugout.

Or, maybe you’re lucky like me to reach out to the dude you’ve known since high school. The first guy to teach me how to properly address a ground ball, how and when to be the cutoff man, and the first dude to scream which base to fire to on a hot shot up the middle.

He responds, “Hell yes! Best day of the year.”

These are your people, your friends, your family, your Cardinal family. You share it all. Your moods all slightly depend on whether or not Wainwright can command the strike zone, or whether a hanging breaking ball hits, or misses the sweet spot on Tommy Pham’s bat by just this much.

It’s not wrong or strange in the least. Don't worry. We’re the sane ones.

So, here’s to all of you in my Cardinal family. May the baseball gods smile down upon us all on the holiest of baseball days. On the most perfect of days. Here’s to you, and here’s to Opening Day.

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