Just Sounds Different

SCRWACK!!!!!  It sounds like it was hit by a nuclear (that's pronounced NEW-CLEER, not NEW-Q-LER, for all you republicans out there) warhead.  The ball absolutely explodes off the bat.  It's different.  It's special.  It's Albert.  Unforgettable.

I had been a little distracted throughout the game but some things stay with you even when you're not fully invested.  Something memorable just happened.  Holding a not-quite 2 year-old in my lap, 8 Budweisers deep, in 90º plus 80% humidity weather, soaking wet and trying to stay alive, the sound I heard from no more than 100 feet from home plate was something legendary. Albert Pujols just hit a foul ball into the upper deck just left of Big Mac Land.  It was in the air for no more than 3 seconds.  Absolutely crushed.  I'm pretty sure I could hear the ball scream "SHHHIIIIIIIITTTTTTT" as it flew out of play.  Hammered.

At one point during the game John Jay hit a ball into right field that sounded like the sweet little ping of a fairway wood connecting on a breezy Sunday morning.  Nice contact.  Nothing special.  I remarked to Big Willy (my dad) "Just doesn't sound like Albert's, does it?"  I'm not sure if it was right after this or at another time but it was definitely later in the game.....Albert made me feel good about even mentioning it.  The towering shot to the upper deck was, by all accounts, incredible.  The distance was alarming.  A human shouldn't be able to do that.  But others have done it before.  It's not Herculean.  The difference on this swing was how it sounded.  The way he hits makes your body react.  With every swing your eyes, your stomach, and especially your ears swell with adrenaline.  That sound is unlike anyone else's in the game, or anyone else's I've ever heard.  It's aggressive, it's hurtful, it's excessive, it's amazing.  It's the best.

If he leaves the Cardinals this offseason I will be crushed.  To not be able to hear that crack of the bat, to witness something special on at every plate appearance, to have the hair on my arms and legs stand at attention with every swing will be utterly depressing.  Albert makes me love baseball.  He does it more than anyone else ever has or ever will.  And it's all about that sound.  The calm before the storm, the subtle lift of the left foot, the slight raise of the bat's angle, and the contact of the ball resulting in the climax of the most pure baseball explosion these ears have ever heard.  Bring him back for the rest of his life.  I'll watch losing teams if I have to.  Just don't let that beautiful sound ever leave St. Louis.