Baseball blues

It’s not a traffic jam at rush hour, an afternoon of shopping with the wife or a crying baby on an overseas flight.


Torture, to me, is daytime postseason baseball.

First, the back story.

Where I grew up, the summer soundtrack was Cardinals baseball on the radio. It resonated in the car, the living room and sometimes under the bedtime covers when my team was on the Left Coast.

That passion has only intensified as I’ve aged. On average, I watch at least 100 televised St. Louis games a year.

During the regular season, afternoon games come and go during the work week and I cope. But when October rolls around and the playoffs begin, if I’m not plopped in front of the big screen to catch my Birds, I get irritable.

The Cards played Monday during the day and are scheduled for two more afternoon games this week.

This is cruel and unusual punishment.

It’s high time for prime time, which comes Friday in the form of a potential Game 5.

If the Cards — and I — can just hang on.


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