The Cardinals start a new sob story and maybe a new curse

Anuj (over there on the other side of the page) wrote about 1500 words for his column. But you've already heard all that. Everybody and their mom have been rejoicing in the Red Sox World Series win. Then next year, they'll realize that this crazy bunch of lovable hooligans had the second highest payroll in the majors. It's not exactly a sob story.

What is a sob story is how the Cardinals lost the series. They haven't been to one since 1987 or won one since 1982, which, I grant, is not as long as 1918, but it's beyond my living memory. Red Sox fans may claim that they've been waiting 86 years, but they've really only been waiting for as long as they can remember, which is as long as I have been waiting for the Cardinals.

Oh, and that silly Curse of the Bambino. That curse was invented in 1987 —the year after Bill Buckner blew a World Series — by Dan Shaughnessey, a reporter for the Boston Globe, when he wrote "The Curse of the Bambino." The curse is really only 17 years old. That's five years fewer than the time since the Cardinals won a World Series.

The 2004 World Series was the most painful baseball series of my life. It was worse than the 1996 NLCS against the Braves when the Cards were up 3-1 (then a lead that had never been surmounted in the baseball postseason) only to lose the next three games by scores of 14-0, 3-1 and 15-0. What a collapse.

In the 2004 World Series, we didn't have a chance.

The series started off with Steven Tyler singing the Star-Spangled Banner . . . incorrectly. He definitely said something incoherent when he was supposed to be "singing" about ramparts. I'm glad the Sox had Bostonians singing the National Anthem instead of reverent, talented singers. The annoyance begins.

Then I got to see one of my least favorite broadcasters give the pre-game analysis. Tim McCarver was wearing a muffler in the booth. A muffler! I know Fenway's old, but I don't think it's that drafty. This may not bother you as much as it bothered me, but it just got me in a sour mood for the baseball.

8:10:00 p.m. World Series starts with a called strike to Renteria. Bad omen for the outcome.

I actually wrote that. I am prescient.

8:10:48 p.m. Renteria Ks, and it looks like Tim Wakefield's knuckleball is working. Uh oh.

Not that prescient.

8:13:50 p.m. I hate knuckleballs.

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8:14:09 p.m. Larry Walker hits a double. I love knuckleballs.

Wakefield gave up five runs in 3 2/3 innings. It looked like the Cardinals offense was going to be working like it had all year.

8:19:56 p.m. Woody Williams' first pitch is a ball. Another bad omen. Why am I so negative?!

Prescient again. Woody gave up seven runs in two and a third innings. But that's OK, right? The Cardinals' offense is amazing.

And there they were, tied 9-9 in the eighth inning. Then, of all things, the Cardinals' fundamentals break down.

11:53:08 p.m. Renteria blows a play that would have gotten Varitek out. Gold Gloves won't help you now, Edgar. E6.

11:56:28 p.m. S—-! Mark Bellhorn jacks one off the right-field foul pole to make it 11-9. He's the No. 9 hitter! Come on, [Julian] Tavarez! D—- it. I don't think the Cardinals can win this one, now. I wish it were Game 2 already. Renteria's error cost St. Louis a run. Ahh! That is so frustrating!

The Cards didn't score the rest of the way. They totally lost their ability to play sound baseball in their best areas — defense and middle relief.

They must have noticed the muffler.

On to Game 2. Or not.

7:30:01 p.m. It's one second after Fox's announced broadcast start time for Cardinals-Red Sox, and I'm watching Saints-Raiders. Grrrr.

7:43:59 p.m. Jimmie Johnson is rambling. Baseball, please?

7:47:02 p.m. Seriously, Jimmie.

7:50:24 p.m. Yay! Baseball! Actually just another promo.

The game eventually did begin . . . after I complained some more about the broadcast crew. This time my beef is with studio analyst Kevin Kennedy.

7:58:27 p.m. Kennedy is talking to two guys who were on the 1946 World Series teams, but of course he's got his arm around the Red Sox guy. Why does everybody root for them because they haven't been able to get it done?

Eventually Curt Schilling takes the mound with his fake bloodied sock. Apparently ankles only bleed before games, not during, and blood does not change colors as it crusts up over three hours. Oh, and doctors don't put bandages on ankles that would stop the blood from getting on the sock. Schilling, you're a hero.

We've got Matt Morris on the mound, so the game should be low-scoring, right? Surely in a low-scoring game, the Cardinals' superior defense and fundamentals will bring them the win, right?

The Red Sox did their part — four errors for the second night in a row.

8:40:39 p.m. S---! Varitek busts one 400 feet off the center field wall! 2-0 Boston. Varitek is on third. Crap.

That was in the first inning.

But it's still 2-1 in the fourth.

9:38:50 p.m. Two more runs. Once again, Bellhorn is making me suicidal. Homicidal if he were near me. 4-1.

It's only three runs. We've got bats.

10:30:41 p.m. 6-1. Cabrera smashes one off the Monster to score two more with two outs. I'm getting sick of this. All of the Red Sox runs have come with two outs. I am really pissed.

Yeah, so the Cardinals scored another run, Jim Edmonds made a sweet over-the-shoulder catch. And we're down, 2-0, in the series.

Game 3 is mostly a blur. It doesn't matter. The Cardinals were never in it, despite the 4-1 score. Pedro was the Pedro of seven years ago.

Every TV pundit predicted the series would go back to Boston. No way the Cardinals would lose the World Series in front of sold-out crowds in the best baseball town in America. But they did.

I will grudgingly talk about Jeff Suppan's baserunning error that turned the tide of Game 3. He was stupid. He didn't think third-base coach Jose Oquendo was yelling "No" instead of "Go," as he claimed. He froze . . . in the biggest moment of his adult life. That game could have easily been tied at two if he had just trotted home (provided Pujols could hit a sac fly).

On to Game 4. By now, I don't even have a glimmer of hope for a series win. I'm basically just hoping for a little respectability.

The Cardinals seemed to want that about as much as they wanted to be force-fed Curt Schilling's sock. Kennedy claimed something other than Schilling and his fellow heroes had won these games.

8:08:42 p.m. Kevin Kennedy has already twice referred to the "luck of the Irish" that the Red Sox have. What?! They haven't won a World Series since 1918. They are possibly the least lucky franchise in the history of sport. "Luck of the Irish"?! I am baffled.

8:10:44 p.m. Of course they're still going to crush my team. I am now both baffled and ticked.

See the lack of confidence?

8:27:29 p.m. Johnny Damon leads off with a home run. Another first-inning run for the Red Sox, another sullen look on my face.

8:28:03 p.m. I hate Tim McCarver SO MUCH! After that homer, he says "The one thing about ground balls, they don't go out of the ball park." That's it. That's all he said. I could kill him.

There was a sequence in the first inning that was our only chance to win the game. Womack was back in the leadoff spot where he should be. He got on, was sacrificed to second and then third. But then Scott Rolen, the leading MVP candidate earlier in the season, came up.

8:46:39 p.m. Rolen just hit a swinging bunt, and we have not come through, once again.

Yep. That was it. The first inning was over, and so was the series. No joke; the Cardinals, with the best offense in the National League and the scariest offense in baseball, got shut out in the deciding game of the World Series. They scored three runs in the last three games.

Looks like we have a new curse to sob about.