I thought I'd make my first Emeritus post — New York magazine is fun! I'm totally learning about Fashion Week and sushi restaurants! — about Rick, and the Cardinals, and those ridiculous Cubs-Brewers trades because, honestly, if I'd had my druthers, I'd have written every post about the Cardinals when I was editor of this here site. (It was difficult not to. Extremely so.) So while I have a few moments before I have to approve the new Vincent Gallo photo spread, I thought I'd scratch the itch.

I know, I know: Billy Beane's the genius, we all know it, we all love him, he loves the Ramones, whatta guy. But I cannot fathom what he's thinking with the Rich Harden trade. We understand that Harden is probably going to get hurt — it's nice to see the Cubs have Mark Prior back — and then everyone will give him backslaps and man hugs, no homo. But Jim Hendry can claim all he wants that the trade wasn't a reaction to the Sabathia trade — which seems much more fair, and didn't actually upset us nearly as much — and we're still not going to believe him. That's really all Beane could get for Harden? Sean Gallagher? I'd rather have Black Gallagher.

Sure, Harden is probably gonna break down. But that doesn't make Eric Patterson a better second baseman.

More to the point, both the Cubs and the Brewers have made moves that the Cardinals shouldn't — and probably can't — counter. In a way, the fact that the two teams had to make the trades at all is a victory; if the Cardinals aren't dramatically overachieving in the first place, maybe everybody feels a little more comfortable with where they stand and don't make the risk trades. This was never supposed to be a contending season for the Cardinals; it's a house money season. If they keep this going, wow, what a great story. If they don't, well, it has been more fun that anyone thought it would be, now trade Ludwick for a prospect or two. It's clear the Cardinals aren't as talented as the Cubs or Brewers, and that was true before those two trades. But hey, why not let it ride? It's bizarre that the Birds have even made it this far.

But yes: The MLB Extra Innings package continues to break my heart. Anytime they have the road announcers, they always bring up the Ankiel pitching thing. Al Hrabosky and Dan McLaughlin, the Cardinals announcers, never even refer to Ankiel as a pitcher; they know how much it hurts Cardinals fans to even think about it. But every time Ankiel bats and we have the road announcers ... "what a story, this kid, with the pitching and the ..." The mute button is smashed immediately. Honestly, that video above, that's Faces Of Death for Cardinals fans; it should be on rotten.com.

By the way, do you love our awesome television? HD? What HD?

They've got an afternoon game today that we surely just jinxed, but any Cardinals fan paying attention — and based on attendance figures so far, there are fewer than there have been the last few years, a little chip in our self-congratulatory Best Fans In Baseball armor — has already noticed this team is a different beast that we've become accustomed to. None of those late-in-life ugly "veterans" that Tony LaRussa is addicted to, no Tony Womack, no Jeff Fassero, no Jason Christensen. It's a bunch of young guys with names like Skip, and Rico, and Ryan who keep scrapping out wins. The team looks alive; it looks like it cares. That hasn't been the case, really, since 2004, and that includes the World Series winner in 2006. Last night good ole Rick ended a 17-pitch at-bat with a walk. Jim Edmonds would have gotten bored around pitch nine and just grounded to second.

We know this will cause Kyle Lohse to get hammered today — he's 2-0 with a 1.04 ERA! Kyle Lohse! — and that this cannot last. But right now, two weeks into the season, a Cardinals team we were just hoping wouldn't embarrass us has the best record in baseball. Forgive us, but we had no choice but to note the occurrence. Admit it: You're impressed we lasted this long.

Making It Last [Viva El Birdos]

(Photo via the St. Louis Post-Dispatch)

We were discussing with our fellow Cardinals dorks about which Opening Day was worse. This year's, in which a Cardinals team that will be struggling for wins had a likely victory (along with a Pujols homer and two Ankiel RBIs) washed away, or last year's, in which the Mets blew out the Cardinals and, oh yeah, Chris Carpenter hurt himself and still hasn't pitched, more than a year later.

Believe it or not, we decided that this year was actually worse. The anticipation of Opening Day is so palpable, so invigorating, that having the thrill of a four-run first inning, and a Pujols bomb, everything reminding you of what you've missed .... to see all that just splashed away, that's worse. At least it felt worse.

Alas. We'll be back out there tonight, regardless. After all, it's Kyle Lohse vs. Kip Wells. Now that's an Opening Day matchup.

Busch Becomes Field Of Streams In Opener [STLToday.com]

(Photo via The St. Louis Post-Dispatch)

Every weekday until the start of the season, a different writer will preview his/her team. We asked a gaggle of writers, from the Web, from print, from books, to tell us, in as many or as little words as they need, Where Their Team Stands. This is not meant to be factual, or dispassionate, or even logical: We just asked them to riff on why they love their team so much, or what their team means to them, or whatever.

Today: The St. Louis Cardinals. Your author is Will Leitch.

Will Leitch is the editor of Deadspin and the author of three books, including God Save The Fan, released by HarperCollins in January. His words are after the jump.

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You know, all told, it's not all that bad of a time to be a Cardinals fan. Sure, it's probably gonna be a long year — unless you're overly persuaded by the fastball stylings of Todd Wellemeyer — but we know that coming in. It's not like we're the Giants or anything; we clearly see that the Cardinals need to get younger, so this is a transitional year, purging the Rolens and Edmonds and giving kids like Brendan Ryan, Ryan Ludwick, Brian Barton and, yes, Rick Ankiel a chance. If the Cardinals finish .500, it will be a success, and no one will consider the year an unmitigated disaster of they don't.

As a sports fan, I tend to only find myself truly passionate when I am attempting to head off failure. (It's like this in life too; it's really quite awful.) Don Denkinger in 1985 was awful. Losing to the Giants the year Darryl Kile and Jack Buck died was awful. Being swept by the Red Sox in four games — and having Drew Barrymore and Jimmy freaking Fallon run on our field directly afterwards, like they owned the place or something — that was awful.

This year? Nothing too awful can happen this year. When expectations are low, it's difficult for the news to be too devastating. Barring an implosion of Albert Pujols' aorta, nothing can go too wrong this year. We're looking at positive increments forward, with the inevitable steps back easily shaken off.

Except: The Cubs.

The Cardinals-Cubs rivalry is every bit as storied as the Yankees-Red Sox, but, you know, a little nicer. Neither team's fans are ever in danger of being throw off the balcony when they show up at the opposing team's stadium, for example. But do not mistake this for passivity; Cardinals fans and Cubs fans revile each other teams with considerable fervor. May I remind you of my favorite Cubs memory:

October 2003. I was at my apartment in the Inwood neighborhood of Manhattan, listening to Cubs-Marlins Game 6 on the radio because I didn't have cable. Cubs were up 3-0, bottom of the seventh. My phone rings. It's my father. I know what he wants.

"Jesus, it looks like they're really going to do this."
"I know."
"I don't really know what to do with myself now. I don't know if I'm ready to live in a world where the Cubs have made the World Series."
"I know."

Pause.

"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"I've been listening to the game on the radio. But you know what? I think I should go downstairs and watch the end. I mean, I've hated them for so long, I feel like their history is kind of my history. In a weird way, I feel like I owe to them. I should watch them do this. They've earned it, I think."
"You go ahead. I'm going to bed.

I put on some pants and went to the bar downstairs. The top of the eighth began. I ordered a cool, icy Budweiser, brewed in St. Louis, Missouri, and settled in, ready to begrudgingly salute the enemy.

So yeah: That's probably my favorite Cubs moment.

I like to consider myself a reasonable nice person, but, jesus, that's just mean. And that's what I'm talking about. In a season in which the Cardinals have no real stakes, the only thing that can truly go wrong is the Cubs making/winning the World Series.

As you've all heard ad nauseum, this year marks the 100th year since the Cubs last won the World Series. In that time, the Cardinals have won 10 World Series. Obviously, that was not a number any Cardinals fan has to look up. We all take much pride in this number; in my home town of Mattoon, it's about 65 percent Cardinals fans, 35 percent Cubs fans. We loved to remind that 35 percent of that number repeatedly.

But lo, the Cubs look far superior to the Cards this year — and it hurt my soul just to type that — which means that the only thing that can go wrong in 2008 is the Cubs winning the World Series. Imagine it. Lou Piniella on the cover of Time. The Cubs becoming America's wild success story (we're sure Chicagoan Obama, White Sox fan or no, would get some mileage out of it too). And someone would certainly drag poor Steve Bartman out for Matt Lauer too. The Cubs would be everywhere. It would be poetic and wonderful and all we dream of for our great game.

And God: It would be awful.

The St. Louis Post-Dispatch asked that question this morning, and it's key, because the Cardinals are counting on him this year. The thing about great stories — and regardless your view on Ankiel and HGH and whatever, last year was a great story — is that inevitably they have to keep going. The flash is over; now he has to be a regular player. And protect Albert Pujols in the lineup. Is he really ready for that?

We Cardinals fans are far from certain this tale is over, and we've been through too much not to be a little wary. If Ankiel starts off slowly, we are all going to fret. Is he going to lose it again? Is he ready for all this again? Forgive us: We still think of Ankiel as this troubled but good-hearted nephew we root for in more ways than just on-the-field. It will almost seem strange to see him as just another player, another outfielder, a guy on our fantasy team. We want him to do well for our team, but mostly, still, we just want him to do well for himself. We have 162 more games to find out, very soon.

Ankiel Ready To Provide Protection? [St. Louis Post-Dispatch]

By our count, the following folks have had some sort of connection with this whole steroid business:

• Rick Ankiel.
• Ryan Franklin.
• Troy Glaus.
• Juan Gonzalez.
• Ron Villone.

And Tony La Russa was interested in Barry Bonds, remember. (And boy, what could have possibly gone wrong there?)

We've been asked if we have some problem with this, if we are some sort of Tony La Russa apologist, the same way he has been an apologist for all the steroid abusers he's managed over the years. We're not sure why this is; LaRussa is one of the most fun people to make fun of in sports. (He does it to himself.)

Our issue is not with LaRussa, who's just a guy who wants to win some games after all. (Is it a manager's job to kick guys off his team for doing steroids? That would seem like the exact opposite of what a manager should do.) It's our general exhaustion with the whole steroid business, which, we suspect, most of you share. Juan Gonzalez did steroids, Paul LoDuca did, Shawne Merriman did ... at the risk of sounding "cynical," how does this affect the price of butter in Egypt again?

The joy of being a sports fan, rather than someone involved in the echo chamber of sports as profession (ahem), is that sports doesn't have to be this big morality play for us. We can all hope that our favorite players are not on steroids, and we can boo those on other teams who are (or at least rumored to be), but we don't have to carry this stupid weight on our shoulders, as if our games have been ruined. This is not our life, this sports; this is something we enjoy to get away from our worldly woes. We didn't grow up worshiping Mickey Mantle; we grew up worshiping Michael Jordan, who probably got kicked out of the NBA for a year for gambling. We have no illusions about our heroes. They are flawed people who probably took some drugs to get ahead because it's really stressful and difficult to be a successful athlete and sometimes you feel like you need some help to stay in the game. It doesn't excuse it. It just makes the whole issue so tangled and so overwhelming that eventually you have to just say, "Aw, fuck it ... just play ball already." Boo, cheer, hiss, whatever: Just win, team, would ya?

This is the healthiest attitude we can imagine a sports fan mustering, and it's why when we boo Tony LaRussa this year, it'll be for starting Aaron Miles, and not for starting Juan Gonzalez. Though we suspect we'll probably end up doing that too.

Cards Reject Portrayal As Lax On Drug Use [St. Louis Post-Dispatch]

(Throughout the upcoming baseball season, we'll be doing occasional Cardinals-centric posts that the millions of humans unfortunate enough not to be Cardinals fans won't care about. We'll label them accordingly and try to keep them out of your way. Consider this the first one.)