Minute Maid Park was packed, fans were on their feet cheering, excitement was in the air. Only one more out and we would be on our way to our first World Series. The roar of the fans was contagious, I, the once doubter, was on my feet and banging my thunder-stix like there was no tomorrow, but sadly there will be.
After getting a guy on base and walking the next guy the Astros (in a move that JR is still talking about and that brings tears to his eyes) decided to pitch to Pujols; a move that quickly ended our chances of clinching at home. The roar of the crown was quickly exchanged for silence and the look of disbelieve as Pujols hit a home run giving the Cardinals a run lead.
And just like that the game was over. Outside as people were coming off their almost-winning high there was anger, but most of all sadness. Dreams were crushed. On the way out we walked behind a dad that had to console his son (about 9) and explain to him what had just happened. The kid was close to tears.
It would of been nice winning a spot to the World Series at home, but we still have two more games and contrary to the naysayers (and there are many) I think we will make it.
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