In My Heart Is Where I Hate the Cardinals

A portrait of the artist as a different, less attractive person.

After a series of rigorous medical-type tests and appointments with important cardiologists, it’s come to my attention that the place where I hate the Cardinals is in my heart.

Please recognize: when I say heart, I’m not using the word metaphorically — like in the Rod Stewart song “Faith of the Heart”, for example, or the other Rod Stewart song “You’re in My Heart”. Stewart doesn’t intend to suggest that the unnamed woman he’s addressing is in his actual heart. She’d have to be only, like, three inches tall, were that the case. And even then, there are so many questions to ask: how did she get in there? can she get out? does she live in a particular ventricle? It’s absurd.

In this case, however, there actually does appear to be a sort of growth or deposit in my heart that’s causing me to hate the Cardinals. I started to feel the first effects of same when LaRussa and his charges completed their unlikely run to the postseason in late September. My symptoms increased considerably when the Cardinals beat the Brewers in the NLCS. And, at approximately 11:30pm CT last night, the sensation of disgust became quite acute.

Doctors say the condition is ultimately benign and could pass as early as tonight (Friday) — especially if the Rangers defeat the Cardinals and, after so doing, drag their respective carcasses back to the Dallas Metro Area on the back of a chariot, much as Achilles did to Hector. Until all that happens, however, the sight of the Cardinals and their stupid faces will inspire within me only will of the illest variety.