While doing a quick Wikipedia search about St. Louis (Where we left our car with my aunt when we flew home for my grandmother’s funeral), I learned that the city calls itself Baseball City, USA, because of its universal love for America’s pastime.  I also read, with some surprise, that it’s the soccer capital of the country, with a rich history dating back several decades (the city does not, however, have a MLS team).

However, on first arriving, I didn’t really get it.  Granted, I was out of it with travel weariness and the sad news of my grandmother’s passing, but it just seemed like any other town with a MLB team to me.  Yes, Busch Stadium is prominent and impressively designed, and there were a fair number of people in Cards hats, but I didn’t get the difference on a walking-the-street level.

That all changed on the flight back in to the city, however, after our short trip back to Southern California to pay our respects.  Coming in over the airport, all I could see in every direction were ball parks.  Part of this was certainly the fact that it was getting dark dark and they were lit, but a little research showed me that there are thirty baseball and softball fields in the city area, not counting the suburbs.  The sight of all those shining diamonds laid out across the ground was enough to make me want to strap on the cleats and go play ball, something I haven’t wanted to do since I was a kid.  But the plane was landing, and the road was calling us, so we had to go.