Before December 4, 2010, whenever I heard the name Lance Berkman a pained expression, somewhere between the look Rudy had after getting denied from Notre Dame a second time and Tim Wakefield’s grimace as Aaron Boone smashed a hanging knuckleball in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, would creep across my face. In between December 4th and March 31, 2011, whenever I heard the name Lance Berkman a skeptical look, similar to the raised eyebrows Drama, E, and Vince’s gave Turtle when he told them he had hooked up with Jamie-Lynn Sigler on an airplane.
However, now when I hear his name, my face is a cross between the gleeful look of a seven year old on Christmas and the forced expression in a certain Lonely Island music video.
Lance Berkman is currently destroying the National League with ferocity similar to that of Sherman’s march across Georgia to the Atlantic Ocean. As off the publication of this post, Berkman ranked second in batting average (.392, only trailing teammate Matt Holliday), second in home runs (10), first in runs batted in (32), third in runs scored (25), first in slugging percentage (.775), and first in on-base plus slugging percentage (1.237). I must say that even the most optimistic Cardinals’ fans and baseball pundits didn’t have Berkman getting out to this scorching start. Currently, he is single-handedly (or double-handedly along with Matt Holliday) propelling the Cardinals to leading the league in runs, batting average, and on-base percentage.
Since he became a part of my favorite sports team, I have attempted to read extensively on the man. He appears to be an absolute class act that was put into a difficult situation in Houston due to a season-long slump and a knee surgery. Fresh off a disappointing finish to the season with the Yankees, Berkman rededicated himself to a vigorous conditioning regiment and regained the leg strength he so lacked last year. And all of baseball is seeing the results.
I think it’s safe to say I have a man crush on the Big Puma. I used to pee in my pants like Fuller after he'd had too many Pepsi’s every time he walked to the plate against the Cardinals because he absolutely killed them. Now, I’m giddy with anticipation when he strides to the plate (especially when he’s at Busch as Johnny Cash’s God’s Gonna Cut You Down plays in the background).
So here’s to you Big Puma: a classy ball player who has dedicated himself to the game and plays baseball the way it ought to be played. A man who may be one of the most underrated players of the 2000s, a man who I would be shocked if I ever heard had used steroids in a era filled with filthy numbers (filthy in a bad way), and a man who still lacks a World Series ring. Swept out of the Series in 2005 after defeating his current club in the NLCS, Berkman has never come remotely close to the sweet jewelry before or since.
My wish for you Big Puma is that a Cardinals team which came into the season amidst turmoil through injury and uncertainty can provide you the necessary surroundings to help you capture a nice rock.
One that would even make Kobe's wife, post Colorado incident, jealous.
