You sir, are no Brant Brown.When James Loney was a kid growing up in Houston he would stand in his back yard holding an old aluminum bat and pretend he was up with two outs in the bottom of the ninth of a playoff game.

He could hear the crowd roaring in the background, he’d throw a rock into the air, grasp the bat with both hands and take a mighty rip.

And he’d hit a sinking liner the other way and start to sprint for first base.  And in his mind’s eye, he’d see it all happen.

The left fielder would run in and take it right off the nuts while James jogged safely into second.

James would spend years in therapy wondering why he couldn’t be the star, even in his own daydreams.

He wouldn’t understand it, until last night.

I was watching The Office when this happened, and checking during commercials to see if the detestable Cardinals had evened the series at one.  It looked like they were going to.  But when I flipped over in the bottom of the ninth, there were two outs and Juan Pierre had somehow been airlifted to second and Casey Blake was batting with two outs in trailing the Cardinals 2-1.  TBS kept showing Matt Holliday standing in left field looking as though he had just shit his pants.

Little did I know, that the problem was on the opposite side.  Of his torso.  A routine line drive was hit right to him, by our boy James Loney, just like in his imaginary dreams it ended with James standing on second base, after bouncing one off Holliday’s crotch.  And to those of you who assume he was wearing a cup…outfielders don’t wear cups.  There’s shouldn’t much risk of taking one in the gnads 300 feet away from home plate.  Hell, some infielders don’t wear cups.  They are, of course, insane.  Anyway…

Once I saw that glorious replay, of Holliday fucking up the Cardinals’ playoff run, I knew why I was so happy.

For some reason, the baseball world has decided that Cardinals fans are the best in the game.  I’m not sure I’m more confused by why they always anoint them to that station, or why anyone feels the need to rank fans in terms of “who’s greatest?”

But we know Cardinals fans.  And we know just how much glee they have taken over the misadventures of the Cubs.  Some of these douchebags spend real money buying jerseys and putting BARTMAN on the back of them.

They kindly ignore the fact that for the last decade (plus a couple of years) their team has best been remembered for players loaded up on performance enhancing drugs and relief pitchers dying.

But for a franchise that has enjoyed success on the field, their fans have always been oddly obsessed with the Cubs.  On some level, I’m sure it’s because of the inferiority complex that St. Louis feels towards Chicago and that Missouri feels towards the rest of the world.  When your state is best remembered for being the northernmost advocate of slavery during the Civil War, of being the last state in the union to require school children wear to shoes and for using Mountain Dew as toothpaste, you’re going to need to cling to something to make yourself feel better about.

The best part is that Holliday dropping the easy liner wasn’t the end of the game.  No, it went on for more than 10 more minutes.  The Cardinals had lots of chances to get that final out.  But Ryan Franklin walked Casey Blake.  Gave up a single to former Cardinals second baseman Ronnie Belliard.  Walked Russell Martin and then gave up the game loser to 74 year old Mark Loretta.

It was the kind of extended agony that Cubs fans have been through several times in recent history.

So suck on it, Cardinals fans.

If you want to know why Vin Scully is the greatest, relive the bottom of the ninth, from the start of Loney’s at bat through to the Loretta walk off hit. It’s TBS’ video, but the radio call with Vin.  He’s the best.  He’s 80!  But he’s still the best.

Try not to think about just how awful the call of that moment would have been if Chip Caray had been doing the game.  By the way, Chip’s twittering!