Transient Flickers
Portion Under Busch: Volume I Issue 1
The grass is long. Tall enough to reach our ankles. We shuffle more than walk, so that our bare feet feel each blade run through our toes. The sun has nearly finished its descent, itself exhausted from another summer day in the heat. As dusk begins to break, they arrive. At first, one. It comes and goes in the same instant, quick enough for us to doubt what we have seen. But then another, and another. Soon, the evening is filled with the flicker of fireflies.
With each illumination, we chase, we tumble, we giggle, marveling at the glow of each firefly in our cupped hands. Our parents are settled into patio furniture, watching as both we and the fireflies float across the lawn. It’s late, they comment to no one in particular. Past bedtime even. Let them play a little longer.
It must have felt like a dream to them, as if they were watching themselves as children, remembering what that grass felt like between their toes, what it was like to harness light, if only for a second, in the palm of their hand.
Do you remember what it felt like? To hold something so beautiful? For that short of time?
The annals Cardinals’ history do not leave space for transience. The epics are reserved for tales of balls well hit into right and defensive plays so breath taking that they can only be described as wizardry. Statues are commissioned for a select few whose mark on the franchise is so permanent that their stories must be preserved and passed down to the next generation.
But as the fireflies prove, transient flickers are no less awe inspiring. This issue of Portion Under Busch searches for those stories. Stories of players whose tenure in St. Louis was a mere season, or sometimes less than a season. Sometimes less than a full game. In this issue you will read about:
Tom Niedenfuer: Best remembered for surrendering two of the most famous home runs in Cardinals playoff history, Niedenfuer signed with the team in 1990, whereupon Whitey Herzog quipped that it was the least the team could do for Niedenfuer, after everything he had done for them.
Manuel Lee: Signed just eight days before the 1995 season, Lee was the Cardinals’ Opening Day starting second baseman. Opening Day 1995 was also the last game Lee played in the majors. He ended his Cardinal career with a 1.000 batting average, a much lower fielding percentage, and no threat to be mistaken for Lou Gehrig or Cal Ripken Jr.
Fernando Valenzuela: El Toro as he was known, Valenzuela was perhaps the most famous baseball player in the world in the early 1980s. A Dodger hero, Valenzuela became the first player in baseball history to with the Rookie of the Year and Cy Young awards in the same season. But he lasted only 22 innings as a Cardinal in 1997 before being released on nearly the seven year anniversary of his lone no-hitter (against the Redbirds).
Jeff Weaver: In 2006, the Angels designated Weaver for assignment, so they could replace him on the roster with his younger brother, Jered. Weaver found his way to a Cardinals team that, like him, seemed incapable of delivering on all the hype, all the unfulfilled promise. Three months later, he would throw one of the greatest games of his life, and both he and the Cardinals would be world champions.
Jason Heyward: Heyward was brought to St. Louis to replace Oscar Tavares. In his one year in St. Louis, Heyward was the best player on one of the best Cardinals’ teams in the history of the franchise. And then he was gone. To the Cubs. With whom he won a World Series. The saddest lines are written on nights like those.
I hope you enjoy our first issue and consider subscribing to not only hear more stories, but to share some of your own.