Apparently the man upstairs does work in mysterious ways.
Just one day after I decided my life would be better by swearing off sports, Cardinals manager Tony La Russa decided to retire. So to use a phrase that I never thought I would utter in my life: Thanks, Tony! I’m back!
Much will be made over the next few days of La Russa’s genius — his six pennants, three World Series titles, the third-most wins all-time, etc., etc.
I’ll remember his blind eye to the obviously juicing Bash Brothers in Oakland, his petulance when someone asked him a difficult question, and the whole falling asleep drunk at a stoplight deal. But that’s only because La Russa is one of my least-favorite baseball figures of all time.
It occurred to me today that I never actually hated the Cardinals when Whitey Herzog and Joe Torre managed them — it wasn’t until Tony came along that feelings of ill will towards the franchise truly began to fester. It’s a lot easier to hate Tony’s Tools — Mark McGwire, Jim ...