A Dream Come True

I have been a St. Louis Cardinals fan my entire life. I have attended hundreds of baseball games in two St. Louis stadiums, but I never met Fredbird.


I fell in love with Fredbird during one of my trips to Busch Stadium as a kid. I loved watching him dance on top of the dugouts and act silly. I’d laugh when he would climb into the stands and tease someone. I wondered if the people singled out for Fredbird’s attentions were embarrassed.

We always sat in the upper deck, so the chances of meeting him were slim. Every time we went to a game, I always hoped he would find his way to our seats, but he never did, causing me to leave the stadium just a little disappointed. Pops would always squeeze my hand and say “next time” when it was time to go home, but I knew that next time would never come.

Next time arrived today when I least expected it.

I was sitting at my organization’s booth at a festival when I looked outside the tent and caught a glimpse of that familiar red costume. Fredbird was there, and I wasn’t in the cheap seats.

I fished through my purse for my Blackberry and ran out of the tent and toward that large stuffed bird as if my life depended on it. “Fredbird,” I shouted, “I can’t believe you’re here!”

I was impatient as he posed for a photo with some kids, but I made sure I was next. The camera flash went off and he turned to me. “It’s you,” I said. “I can’t believe it’s really you!”

I’m sure the people around me thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care. This was Fredbird. I got a hug and someone was kind enough to take a photo for me. In that moment, I was a little kid again.

As soon as it was over, I called Pops. “Guess who I met?” I asked. I was so excited I could barely speak, and I didn’t give Pops I chance to finish. “Fredbird, Pops! I met Fredbird!”

He laughed at my enthusiasm. “I always knew you would,” he said.