And for all the jejune tributes to their valor, the Cardinals could not be taken seriously. And besides, when we look at the MLB standings, there are no columns for scratching and clawing - just wins and losses. The manager sincerely expressed pride in the way his boys scratched and clawed, even as they rarely scratched or clawed, or were the exact opposite of a team that scratched and clawed. As we tried to emerge from a pandemic, the Cardinals did not give us the motivation to hurry down to the ballpark. But they were not a likeable team - not in the way that we warm to teams because of how they energize us, lift us, inspire us, and provide us with an enchanting escape from the daily worries and drudgery. The Cardinals were not an entertaining team, frequently rendered inert with a tedious offense that lacked power and imagination and men on base. The Cardinals were riding a downbound train.
The starting rotation was broken, the bullpen was ablaze, and the front office did nothing to fix it, or save it, or salvage the season. 500, or no better than three games above even. It was a team that entered 100 scheduled days of baseball with a record under. They were a mediocre team, a team playing like it was stuck in the ooze of the Mississippi River.
