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I sincerely hope no one is offended with my borrowing from the immortal speech of a great American.
One score and three years ago, a great manager, in whose name a team played a brand of exciting and ultimately triumphant baseball that became to be known as Whiteyball. This momentous movement came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Cardinal fans who had been seared in the flames of withering losses. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of mediocrity. But twenty-three years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Cardinal fan is hungry for another championship.
Twenty-three years later, the life of the Cardinal fan is sadly crippled by the manacles of near misses and the chains of dashed hopes. Twenty-three years later, the Cardinal fan lives on a lonely island of a broken down sports teams in the midst of a vast ocean of championship prosperity for other great cities. Twenty-three years later, the Cardinal fan is still languishing in the corners of baseball society and finds himself an exile in his own land.
So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition. In a sense we have come to an oil town to cash a check. When the architects of our league wrote the magnificent words of the baseball rules and the declaration to Play Ball, they were signing a promissory note to which every Cardinal fan was to become heir.
This note was a promise that all Cardinal fans would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of victory, pennants, and the pursuit of the happiness that is a World Series winner. It is obvious today that Cardinal ownership has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her fans are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Cardinal ownership has given the Cardinal fans a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of victory is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity for THIS Cardinal team.
So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the happiness of supreme victory and the joy of the ultimate championship. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind Cardinal leadership of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of having just another good season. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of falling short to the sunlit path of winning the title in the sport that is our nation’s national past time. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of Cardinal fans. Now is the time to lift our Cardinal nation from the quicksands of crushing losses to the solid rock of ultimate victory.
It would be fatal for the Cardinal leadership to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Cardinal fan. This sweltering summer of the Cardinal fan's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of World Series victory. Two thousand and five is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Cardinal fan needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the Cardinal leadership returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Cardinal Nation until the Cardinal fan is granted his World Series winner.
The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our Cardinal Nation until the bright day of victory emerges. But there is something that I must say to my fellow fans who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of victory. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for victory by drinking too much beer or beating the crap out of Astro fans.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Cardinal fan community must not lead us to distrust of all Astro or White Sox or Angel fans, for many of our brothers, as evidenced by their presence in the stands today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their destiny is to lose.
We cannot cheer alone. And as we cheer, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of Cardinal fanship, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of heartbreak, cannot stand losing in the stadiums of other teams. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Cardinal fan is presented only division titles and pennants. We can never be satisfied as long as a Cardinal fan in Mississippi cannot attend a victory parade in St Louis and a Cardinal fan in New York believes he has nothing for which to cheer. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until victory rolls down like waters and the thrill of a World Series title like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from the loss to Boston. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for victory left you battered by the storms of frustration and staggered by being swept when ultimate victory seemed so near. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Missouri, go back to Illinois, go back to Kentucky, go back to Tennessee, go back to your homes and barbeque pits, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends and fellow fans that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the ultimate Cardinal dream.
I have a dream that one day this Cardinal nation will rise up and win with the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all baseball players are not created equal and the greatest players are Cardinals." I have a dream that one day on the green field of Busch stadium the sons of former Cardinals and the sons of Cardinal fans will be able to play together on the field of Cardinal brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Missouri, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of another St Louis summer, will be transformed into an oasis of victory and happiness. I have a dream that my children will one day live in a Cardinal nation where they will not be judged by the color of their hats and shirts but by the number of World Championship flags flying for the roof of their stadium.
I have a dream today.
PLAY BALL!
One score and three years ago, a great manager, in whose name a team played a brand of exciting and ultimately triumphant baseball that became to be known as Whiteyball. This momentous movement came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Cardinal fans who had been seared in the flames of withering losses. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of mediocrity. But twenty-three years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Cardinal fan is hungry for another championship.
Twenty-three years later, the life of the Cardinal fan is sadly crippled by the manacles of near misses and the chains of dashed hopes. Twenty-three years later, the Cardinal fan lives on a lonely island of a broken down sports teams in the midst of a vast ocean of championship prosperity for other great cities. Twenty-three years later, the Cardinal fan is still languishing in the corners of baseball society and finds himself an exile in his own land.
So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition. In a sense we have come to an oil town to cash a check. When the architects of our league wrote the magnificent words of the baseball rules and the declaration to Play Ball, they were signing a promissory note to which every Cardinal fan was to become heir.
This note was a promise that all Cardinal fans would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of victory, pennants, and the pursuit of the happiness that is a World Series winner. It is obvious today that Cardinal ownership has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her fans are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Cardinal ownership has given the Cardinal fans a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of victory is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity for THIS Cardinal team.
So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the happiness of supreme victory and the joy of the ultimate championship. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind Cardinal leadership of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of having just another good season. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of falling short to the sunlit path of winning the title in the sport that is our nation’s national past time. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of Cardinal fans. Now is the time to lift our Cardinal nation from the quicksands of crushing losses to the solid rock of ultimate victory.
It would be fatal for the Cardinal leadership to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Cardinal fan. This sweltering summer of the Cardinal fan's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of World Series victory. Two thousand and five is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Cardinal fan needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the Cardinal leadership returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Cardinal Nation until the Cardinal fan is granted his World Series winner.
The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our Cardinal Nation until the bright day of victory emerges. But there is something that I must say to my fellow fans who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of victory. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for victory by drinking too much beer or beating the crap out of Astro fans.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Cardinal fan community must not lead us to distrust of all Astro or White Sox or Angel fans, for many of our brothers, as evidenced by their presence in the stands today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their destiny is to lose.
We cannot cheer alone. And as we cheer, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of Cardinal fanship, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of heartbreak, cannot stand losing in the stadiums of other teams. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Cardinal fan is presented only division titles and pennants. We can never be satisfied as long as a Cardinal fan in Mississippi cannot attend a victory parade in St Louis and a Cardinal fan in New York believes he has nothing for which to cheer. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until victory rolls down like waters and the thrill of a World Series title like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from the loss to Boston. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for victory left you battered by the storms of frustration and staggered by being swept when ultimate victory seemed so near. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Missouri, go back to Illinois, go back to Kentucky, go back to Tennessee, go back to your homes and barbeque pits, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends and fellow fans that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the ultimate Cardinal dream.
I have a dream that one day this Cardinal nation will rise up and win with the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all baseball players are not created equal and the greatest players are Cardinals." I have a dream that one day on the green field of Busch stadium the sons of former Cardinals and the sons of Cardinal fans will be able to play together on the field of Cardinal brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Missouri, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of another St Louis summer, will be transformed into an oasis of victory and happiness. I have a dream that my children will one day live in a Cardinal nation where they will not be judged by the color of their hats and shirts but by the number of World Championship flags flying for the roof of their stadium.
I have a dream today.
PLAY BALL!
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