Historical December 1985 report or notice. Original dates, prices and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
I don’t normally set many vows for myself. I figure that there are enough restraints, constraints, and other straints placed on me by society that I shouldn’t make living any harder than it is. I’ve never been one for making foolish promises on New Year’s Eve or at the start of a relationship. Heck, I’m realistic to begin my monthly diets with the vow that I won’t gain weight before I’m through.
The one area where even my willpower gives out, where even I resort to vows, resolutions, and promises is the football Cardinals (known affectionately to hometown fans as “The Big Dead”).
When I last wrote about the Big Dead, I made a private promise to myself that they would not grace these mighty pages again. Writing about the Big Dead is resorting to the lowest form of humor. They’re simply too cheap of a laugh. Making fun of the Big Dead is like picking on your little brother or trying to vote illegally in the Seventh Ward, it’s too easy to be any fun.
Well, you guessed it, cheap laugh, here I come! (Would you believe, “cheap grimace?”) Let’s start and spend a few brief moments on the level of play of the Big Dead. Suffice it to say that their performance throughout the year has been abysmal.
In technical football-jargon, they smell.
After watching the Big Dead flop around and make the wrong turn at every fork in the road, you’ll think that the Pentagon functionary who paid $700 for a hammer was intelligent.
The only redeeming virtue in the Big Dead’s on-the-field performance is that they’re consistent.
With few exceptions, they manage to play worse than they should.
If the Indians had played for the Big Dead, Custer would have won.
If the iceberg had had a Cardinal on its tip, the Titanic would still be afloat. Heck, even Freeman Bosley would’ve had a chance if Vince were playing for the Big Dead.
The Big Dead would lose to the St. Roch’s Beagles (and, doubtless, the Beagles can drink more beer and are better partiers!).
But enough!
As noted, making fun of the Big Dead’s “play” is like laughing at Brazil every time that they have to go to the International Monetary Fund to negotiate a larger loan; after a while you almost begin to feel sorry for them.
When it comes to the Big Dead’s desire for a new stadium, things get even more ripe: Can you believe it? Here’s a team that doesn’t even fill out the present small stadium (with good reason), asking for more seats! “Holy pipe dreams,” as Batman would have said, whatever can they be thinking? Have you ever watched kids eating lunch? You know how before they even start on the veggies, they’ll ask for more desert?
As a good adult you automatically respond, “Finish what’s there first, dear, and then we’ll talk.” Yep, that’s the Big Dead. Unable to fill their 50,000 seat mortuary, they want an additional 20,000—empty—seats.
I know that, even as bad as they are, the argument is that if Mr. Bidwell doesn’t get the seats, the Birds will fly to Phoenix.
If they plan to get there via forward pass, there’s no worry.
The Big Dead couldn’t pass their way west of Jefferson Avenue.
The best approach would be for the Big Dead’s punter to face the River and proceed to kick the ball again and again to the east.
The punts would be blocked with such regularity that the ball—and, hopefully, the team—would move backwards, to the west and wind up in Phoenix, Omaha, or LaDue. Actually, as bad as it would be for our City’s image for them to leave, I’d take the risk and hope for a franchise with a new beginning.
The Big Dead are and will continue to be losers. They’re the Edsels of football. If, for some craziness, folks do build a new stadium for the Big Dead, I have some thoughts about location. Earth City is the best place as long as they DON’T build a flood wall.
The non-floodwall scenario has real possibilities when the Big Dead and the rising tides come together! Any fan crazy enough to go to the Mortuary to see the Big Dead die (again) deserves to be there among the driftwood and driftplayers.
If Earth City is not to be the location for the new stadium, how about the site of the old Pruitt-Igoe?
Even the Big Dead might not besmirch the reputation of that place.
If not Pruitt-Igoe, how about LaDue? LaDue is known for its dullness and the Big Dead certainly fit that bill.
Besides, the sounds of the officials’ whistles noting Big Dead infractions might be enough to shroud the sounds of all the LaDue arteries as they harden.
If I had to pick one spot though, I think I’d have them play in Columbia, on the University of Missouri campus. That way both the Big Dead and equally inept Missouri football team would be at the same place and we wouldn’t have to stink up two parts of the State. Kind of like why have two landfills if all the debris and radioactive material can be in one? Yep, I’ve gone and done it and broken my promise.
Once again I’ve pandered and capitulated to emotion and pain and written about the Big Dead.
However, “nevermore,” as my friend, Mr. Raven would say, will their deeds darken these pages. You have my promise, dear reader (I used to say “dear readers” until my readership was pointed out to me).
From now on it’s lighter topics like world hunger, nuclear disasters, and what color to paint the SafeStreet barricades in the Shaw Neighborhood. Have a happy holiday. Only 36 more weeks until the start of the 1986-87 football season.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, December 1985.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1985_12.pdf, printed page(s) 12; PDF page(s) 12.
