Although I think it’s worth noting that Musial also threw out the first pitch for Game 5 of the 2006 World Series, and I can tell you personally that the stadium erupted and cheered for several minutes straight. In fact, it only stopped briefly when he sort of fell off the mound after the pitch (when everyone thought he was hurt). Of course, we all went straight back to cheering we noticed (on camera) he was laughing and not hurt at all.

St. Louis does love him, but I agree that he should have been a bigger part of the ceremonies.

Mike 80:Bobby Orr is a New England phenomenon. I saw a completely meaningless game back in 81 between the Winnipeg Jets and the Hartford Whalers (complete with bag-wearing fans calling the team the “Ailers”) memorably only for it being Gordie Howe Night. They gave Gordie the usual assortment of gifts, the last being a golf cart. Driven on the ice by Bobby Orr. LONG standing O. THAT was a great moment. To me, he’s hockey’s Musial.

And no one here seems to want to bring up politics, so I will. The thought that even a few people still get tingly thinking of George Bush posing in a warm-up jacket and throwing that pitch in the ‘01 Series is truly nauseating. That really was the turning point in the hunt for bin Laden, wasn’t it? Oh that’s right, they couldn’t be bothered with that when there was another unnecessary war to launch and thouands of lives and billions of dollars to squander.

And no, I don’t have any fondness for Obama and his gang of Wall Street ass-kissers. I could just care less how well he or any president living or dead throws a baseball…

I hate to say, what started out as a promising post ended as a typical self-aggrandizing rant. I will give you kudos for your second #3, though. And I agree with #2.

Let’s put this in terms you might understand:
Did Yaz have the”It” factor? Uh, no. But if the All-Star Game is back in Boston in 20 years, and the 18-time All-Star is still with us at 89 years of age, it’s safe to say that Yaz won’t be wheeled in and then cast aside to give George W. Bush an extra minute on the jumbotron. He deserves to be honored, but certainly no more than The Man who far exceeded Yaz in every meaningful offensive category (sans stolen bases and aggregate walks), despite having 1,000 fewer at-bats.

Stan WAS recognized as a superstar in his day, but he isn’t now. Would his legacy be any different if he had an extra 5 minutes of attention on the national stage? Maybe not. But it was a chance to do the right thing and seize the rare opportunity to honor one of the game’s all-time greats in his home park in his final years.

1. TWICE this season, Boston fans gave returning icon Nomar Garciaparra longer, more spine-tingling ovationsthan Musial received in St. Louis. Bash the Red Sox fans if you want, but they do spine-tingling.

2. Saying Williams was the only good thing Sox fans had going for them up to 1999 is so jaw-droppingly ignorant that it doesn’t require rebuttal. Few fans have seen as many exciting races, big games, big moments and great players as Boston baseball fans.

3. The fans were not making “peace” with Ted Williams in 1999—that’s nonsense. The “making peace” moment came when he returned to Fenway in 1969 as manager of the Senators and finally tipped his hat—to an even greater ovation than he got 30 years later. The Red Sox fans went nuts over him twive more, in the team’s only “Old Timer’s Games.”

3. In the second of those, Smokey Joe Wood, then the oldest Red Sock (he was close to 100) was driven out in the Red Sox Ball-cart to throw out the first pitch. He got a huge ovation, but his throw—they had to put the ball in his fingers—went exactly three inches, and fell to the ground beneath his hand. It was horribly sad (Smokey Joe once won 30 games as a pitcher), and he died a few days later. Be careful what you wish for.

4. Don’t take credit for Williams’ moment away from HIM. He was virtually blind and could barely stand , but threw a pitch without a bounce to Fisk. Reportedly he practiced for days, because he was determined to do it. Williams always had a flair for the dramatic, like his last home-run—that moment wasn’t engineered. Ted made it. And unlike Musial, he loved the spotlight, and always had the unmeasurable, indefinable quality that makes him outshine everyone else on a field. I don’t think the presence of a president would have over-shadowed TW one bit.

5. Railing about how unfair it is that one player gets more attention and is remembered while another is not is like baying at the moon. Nobody knows why some people ‘pop’ on the movie screen: why was Gary Cooper a superstar and Randolph Scott not? Why did everyone think Don Drysdale was so special and not notice Jim Kaat? I heard a historian complaining the other day that it was “ridiculous” that James K. Polk wasn’t more appreciated than JFK. Well, it’s that pesky “It” factor. Ted had it to the end, for better or worse. Stan never did (and he knew it), and stats had nothing to do with it.

1) Musial: I cringe every time I hear the cry of “east coast bias!” In a way it is analogous to racism; it exists, but is often obscured by needless cries of wolf. However, the Musial case, to me, is a legit example of greatness fading into obscurity due to geography. We’re talking about one of the 10 greatest hitters in the history of the game. Most of those guys are dead (Ruth, Williams, Cobb, Wagner, the underrated Speaker, Gehrig). 1 is in purgatory (Bonds). Of the other 3, Mays was appropriately honored at the 2007 All-Star Game. That leaves Musial and Aaron. Aaron might be underappreciated, but he holds a prominent place in the national sporting conscience as a result of his home run record and everything that went along with it. Left standing is Stan Musial, the beloved St. Louis baseball hero whose prodigious accomplishments weren’t immortalized in literature or song, and who is little known outside of St. Louis (other than to knowledgeable baseball fans). The universal feeling in St. Louis was that the All-Star Game was the chance to give Stan, in poor health, a proper tribute (a send-off of sorts) in front of the country. As the golf cart wheeled him in from the warning track in right, as it has done on so many occasions in recent years (opening days & postseason games, mostly), fans in attendance applauded reverently and politely. Should the ovation have been more thunderous and prolonged? Probably, yes. Looking back, it was no doubt a missed opportunity. But I can tell you; the anticipation was that the “wheel-in” was a preamble to a meaningful tribute. We were expecting a brief video, maybe a rundown of his accomplishments, maybe some player interaction (it wasn’t necessary to try and recreate the spontaneous Williams moment, but come on! There was nothing!), and then he’d get his emotional 7 minute ovation (as he got during last year’s Opening Day). I promise, this was the expectation for every fan at the park. What we got was ultimately a pretty big letdown. Not a tragedy or anything to dwell on forever, just a disappointment worth noting.

2) Best fans in baseball: What started as a cute little anointing by a handful of national media in the late ‘90’s has turned into a nauseating self-congratulatory refrain recycled by local media and the insufferable wing of Cards fans alike (but please, no lectures from Red Sox fans on insufferability!). Cardinals fans are among the great baseball fans, but I certainly wouldn’t coronate them as the best. They leave in the 6th inning on a school night, start the wave in the 8th inning, often sit on their hands in a tight game until the 9th, and the electricity of the crowd has been zapped by a gentrified new stadium. We boo more than people think. It’s certainly not the best IN-GAME crowd. However, I don’t think St. Louis is exceeded as a baseball CITY. Baseball resonates in St. Louis as much or more than it does in any other city–from my 90 year old immigrant grandfather, to my 5 year old nephew who watches every game on TV with his dad. Like football in Pittsburgh, it’s what everyone talks about; at work, at church/temple, with friends and family. Sports talk radio is more often than not consumed by baseball in the winter (maybe that says more about St. Louis as a football city, but it speaks to my point). Like growing up in Green Bay, even the casual fan knows the roster inside and out. Trust me, that is rare. But let’s not sugarcoat all Cards fans. In fact, the Cardinals fan base is a snapshot of what fan bases would look like if baseball remained the most popular sport in America today. The drunken redneck demographic has largely been swallowed up by college and pro football, but not so in Cardinals country. Throughout Cards territory (parts of the Midwest, South and Plains states), the game is woven into the fabric of the wine-and-cheese crowd and mayonnaise sandwich crowd alike. The result isn’t always pretty–ok, it’s too often fat and/or mulleted–but it’s unique and I’m glad to be a part of it.