Faith is the Highest Passion

David Freese’s heroics overshadow that the Rangers almost won the 2011 World Series in the 10th inning. Daniel Shoptaw tells of an inning that proved how sweet it is to believe.

By Daniel Shoptaw

What’s more hopeless, being in a terrible situation that seems to have no way out or getting out of that situation only to fall into one just as bad?

When we talk about Game 6 of the 2011 World Series, we focus a lot on David Freese and rightfully so. After all, it was his triple with only one strike remaining in the ninth that breathed new life into the Cardinals. It was his home run leading off the 11th that let us see tomorrow night. When you call it “the David Freese game” you are not committing any sort of injustice. It is his shining moment.

However, I think sometimes we don’t focus enough on the 10th inning, an inning that saw hopes thoroughly dashed then somehow, remarkably, resurrected at the last moment. It was an inning that saw a blast answered with small ball. It took big names and role players to bring hope back on a very dark and cold St. Louis night.

I’ll be honest, I can’t take the stress of watching postseason baseball. I’ll flip channels and just check on scores here and there because otherwise I’ll go crazy. I remember my wife and I were catching up on a show while I kept my eye on GameDay. I was stunned when I saw the game wound up being tied in the ninth, but when Josh Hamilton hit a two-run homer in the top of the 10th, I was sure it was over. When you immediately take a hit like that, it’s hard to believe you can get up off the mat..

Especially when you are at the bottom of the order. Daniel Descalso, Jon Jay, the pitcher’s spot with no bench? That’s where your rally starts? At least the ninth had Albert Pujols, Lance Berkman, Allen Craig, and Freese. How were these guys going to keep the season alive? What hope really was there?

Apparently enough. Descalso worked the count then singled off Darren Oliver. Jay flared one to left. Suddenly the tying run was on first with nobody out. The hope meter was filling up quickly.

Tony La Russa pulled out all the stops, pinch-hitting Kyle Loshe for Edwin Jackson, who was hitting for Jason Motte. The legendary manager, one of the only people in the ballpark that knew his future, was making sure he left it all on the field.

By this time, I’d put aside the stress and had to see how it played out. A perfectly placed bunt by Lohse moved the runners up and meant a base hit could tie everything up. Scott Feldman came on for the Rangers and got Ryan Theriot to hit it to third, bringing in one run but bringing the Cards, again, to the brink of failure.

Given all that swirled around him, it would have been a great story if Pujols could have kept the season going. However, the Rangers weren’t that crazy, walking him to bring up Lance Berkman.

If it wasn’t for Freese’s heroics (including his two-run double in Game 7), Lance Berkman likely would have been the MVP of this series. He was hitting .389 with two RBI going into Game 6 and had two hits already in this game. As Tim McCarver said on the broadcast before his at-bat, Berkman “was the best hitter in the World Series.” This wasn’t an unlikely hero, this was someone that gave the Cardinals a real chance, even with the dwindling outs.

I remember not understanding why Texas was playing their no doubles defense with Berkman up, knowing that a flare over the infield would be enough to score Jay from second. (Rewatching the video, McCarver makes the same point and Joe Buck agrees.) It didn’t look like it would matter, though, when Berkman swung at the first two pitches and the Cardinals were, yet again, one strike away from the winter.

Where was hope here? Could you hope for yet another remarkable rally? Was it really likely to happen?

The first verse of Hebrews says that “faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen”. Even though it didn’t seem rational, even though I hate seeing other team’s celebrate postseason success at the expense of the Cardinals, I couldn’t turn away. I had a feeling--call it a gut feeling, call it informed speculation, call it faith--that this was going to turn out just fine. I don’t know how much faith was actually in the stadium that evening, but it must have been enough. Three pitches later, Berkman singled over the infield, Jay scored, and Buck intoned, “They just won’t go away.”

Hope is not rational. It isn’t logical. When it pays off, though, there’s nothing sweeter.

Daniel Shoptaw has been writing about the Cardinals for 17 years and can be found on his Substack, C70 At The Bat, or on either of his podcasts, Meet Me at Musial or Gateway to Baseball Heaven.