The Big Home Run Derby Post

A first-hand account of what it was like to be in that mosh you saw on TV last night.


Prince Fielder smacks a total of 23 dingers to win the Home Run Derby crown, and Albert goes home early after making it interesting in the first round. Brandon Inge hits zero, putting an exclamation mark on a dud of a Derby pick. Nelson Cruz has emerged as a masher 'n basher who we probably could have traded for when he was still in Triple-A last year.

Lots of storylines for a relatively quiet spectacle. And that's not saying anything about the zoo-like atmosphere around and inside Busch, where you walk in half-expecting to see a train of elephants walking around and a man breathing fire. Not to mention David Cook setting the stadium on fire. Such is the glorification of the home run, such an evolution of baseball over the past two decades. But I still love it.

I was fortunate enough to get a Derby ticket with my brother when they released some extras the day before, way up in section 428, right field, home run territory if you're on steroids. Apparently no one's on steroids.

The first thing you notice when going downtown is the sheer magnitude of this event for the city of St. Louis. Luckily, being a towner means you know some different routes to get out of the mainstream of traffic, but you're still riding bumper to bumper and hoping to God that parking is reasonably close for less than $20 bucks. (I recommend either the Kiener Plaza Garage or Macy's Garage on 7th and Market, by the way.) It's clear to see how MLB makes bank on making this a big deal, so it's no wonder why they want to "Make This One Count" despite its exhibition nature.

All the, forgive me for the frankness, tools were out in full force at Mike Shannon's in front of the stadium as well, and I think I saw more Lacoste shirts in just the Busch Stadium area than I've ever seen in my entire life. At a baseball game, mind you. The best way to approach such an encounter is to keep your eyes straight ahead, preferably focused on a distant object such as a street sign or a fence post. Usually they're not concerned with you anyways, so the important part is just staying out of the way.

I will say, that was the biggest turn-off for attending any of the All-Star festivities, the posh atmosphere of the crowd, especially at the stadium. The atmosphere is a lot different than what we're accustomed to at a normal Cardinals game. I can understand why Albert Pujols feels overwhelmed by this week. It just doesn't feel quite like baseball anymore. I felt overwhelmed just seeing so many people around, much less people who aren't the typical Cardinals fan base. I'm not sure that it's necessarily a bad thing for an event like this, but it's different. Definitely different. I prefer the atmosphere of a Cards game. Not this.

Ballpark Village looks a lot different than the artist sketches presented before the stadium was built. Did they forget to build it to scale? WHAT IS THIS, A CENTER FOR ANTS?!

Inside the stadium I felt a little more at home, but me and my brother had to make that wedge you see on kick-off returns to make it through in one piece. If you wanted to try to catch a ball, forget about it. Even showing up early - 3 hours early - leaves you a couple rows back. Autographs? Forget about that too. Unless you're seven.

I made sure to say hi to my buddy Aaron, the field usher along the right field foul territory. Hi was more like a wave and a "how's the weather". I would have had to crowd surf to get remotely close to the edge of the field. It probably would've worked too. A couple baseball celebrities were graciously accommodating the autograph seeking crowd, including Ozzie. You could tell he was ready to go, though. He had that look desperation in his face that is only possible at ALL-STAR WEEK, PRESENTED BY CHEVY, WATCH TUESDAY AT 7PM, ONLY ON FOX.

The seats were nose-bleeders for sure, but we had a great view of the field and the crowd. We were just left enough to glimpse the Jumbotron but directly on line for some dingers to go right under us. It was actually much more peaceful being on the top deck. We could eat our $5 hot dogs in peace and solace. That was, until David Cook arrived.

David Cook. Winner of the 2008 American Idol. Singer. Musician. ROCKER. Pyrotechnics. Exaggerated movements on stage. If intensity had mass, it's molecules would band together to form David Roland Cook. And would hopefully spontaneously combust.



The speaker system at Busch is really quite atrocious, but they did have the usual pounding techno music in the background, however, once the Derby began. Once Brandon Inge did the flake out that we all knew was coming, the crowd kind of fell into a lull. But there it was, that pounding discotechno music filling the air, breathing life into our tiring souls. I actually think my heart was synchronized with the instrumental version of Beat It by the end of the night.

Watching the home runs in person was so much better than watching it on TV. Sure, we weren't the closest to the field and could have gotten pointless interviews with players if we were watching it on ESPN. But it was awesome. We only had to hear Chris Berman's voice one time the entire night (the play-by-play was done by John Rooney, the epitome of class), and the only reason I knew Joe Morgan was present was because he was sitting in the relative area of Erin Andrews.

Home runs are instant gratification for baseball fans, and this Derby was full of cheap thrills. I loved it. Prince Fielder, contrary to the scoreboard, did not hit a ball to the Mississippi. I know this. I literally saw it caught by a fan. But they were some moonshots he was hitting.

The best part of the night was still Albert though. The entire crowd was behind him, a collective anticipation that is only made possible by the hype-machines that are the MLB and ESPN. Some fan tried to start the most ill-fated Pujols chant I have ever seen; it was like a combination of two different chants in one put together by a drunken 38-year-old. Nobody knew how to follow it, and he was getting ticked off at everyone for "not supporting the S-T-L". It was probably one of the funniest things I have ever seen that was actually quite sad at the same time.

Everyone was standing.

Everyone wanted to see Albert steal the show.

Everyone was a little uneased by the "Call Your Shot" promotion, and Albert's lack of getting a guy a new car.

Albert had the entire crowd at his beckoning. He probably could have commanded a takeover of the St. Louis metropolitan area if he wanted, name it PUJOLS-LAND or something epic like that. When he hit that final home run to force the three-way tiebreaker, the crowd went absolutely nuts. When he won the tiebreaker, the crowd went absolutely insane. Then we got quiet.



It was like everyone kind of knew that what we just saw was probably the main event for the night. Albert was gassed, looked gassed, and now how to swing again immediately after swinging an extra 5 times. When he didn't hit 15 bombs in the second round, we were ok with it, or at least I was. He deserves an opportunity to be a normal baseball player, a normal guy. Doesn't he?

The rest of the night went by relatively fast. Nelson Cruz caught my attention, and I was secretly hoping for him to beat out Ryan Howard and Prince Fielder. Home runs look so much more real in person, especially one that goes 503 feet. I'm worried I've become conditioned to the homer now, and anything less will disappoint. That's what kind of atmosphere it is there.

Overall, the Home Run Derby was all it advertised itself to be: some interesting storylines, unpredictable outcomes, and a home run-loving fest. I'm grateful for the opportunity to go, and I'm ultimately glad Albert came out of it in one piece.