In Mostly Loving Memory

Jason Heyward

Gold Glove outfielder, tall.

St. Louis Cardinal

November 17, 2014

Not a St. Louis Cardinal

December 11, 2015

Services for Mr. Heyward to be held Monday at 7:30pm or, whenever. I don’t care.

*In lieu of flowers/angry preposterous tweets, the Cardinals organization would like you to chill the hell out.

Jason… Jason was a good baseball player. But more than that, Jason was a young (26) guy on the free agent market. Gone [chokes up]… too soon.

I remember the first time I saw him throw someone out at home plate. The eruption from the crowd still echoes in my mind. Shortly after, I may have favorited a tweet/meme that read "Pay him. Pay that man his money". Times were good and Rounders-themed memes were at their peak. We finally had our very own Say Hey kid, the J-Hey kid. If only [fights back tears]… sorry, promised myself I wouldn’t say this. If only he were a more consistent hitter. I mean, he was good but almost $200 million good?

Sorry, sorry. Inappropriate time for a critique, I know. This is a time of mourning.

Fans, like humans, will grieve in their own unique way. Some will attempt to burn away the memory of his very existence by literally lighting things (jerseys) on fire. Others will lash out in anger, tossing beer after beer after beer, pelting fellow adult and baby fans alike. Wait, what’s that? That wasn’t us? That was a different bird fan base? A northern jay-of-blue, you say? Huh.

Some, like lil_scooter93, may cry. Probably.

Then, naturally, there will be those that go through denial. The He wasn’t that good anyway/He’s no David Eckstein crowd. Admittedly, this group is my favorite. No fan base is complete without the irrational rants of the truly fanatic.

To be clear, I’m not telling you how to grieve. Nope, not at all. You do you, as they say. No, what I’m saying is this: It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. Forever. Probably. Did you ever see Sometimes They Come Back? I believe Hilary Swank was in the sequel. It’s an absolutely dreadful movie. Stephen King stories rarely translate well to the screen, big or small. I mean, The Shining was good but that was all Kubrick.


Jason has moved on. Sort of. For I hope he finds his way to the Promised Land, I do fear he is now caught between the there-and-now: Purgatory.

Listen, I like Chicago. Second City, deep-dish pizza, unparalleled systemic corruption. It’s great! But baseball? Eh, it’s great at almost getting you to the land of milk and championships. Perhaps, though, Jason will help change that.

Mr. Heyward, you will be missed. See you on the other side. But if you do come back as a ghost – like in that Stephen King story – I’ll be forced to resort to some Ghostbuster-style beat down because Alec (@alecblome) don’t tolerate that demon shit. Capiche?

I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment’s gone / All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity / Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind – (Kansas)