Wild Cards

St. Louis at Washington. Nationals 4, Cardinals 1.

There is a golden opportunity that comes late in every losing season. That moment comes when teams in pennant races come to town counting on some easy wins. Most teams, most years, keep on rolling over, and the fans groan and start thinking about football and whether the Yankees will choke in the ALDS, the ALCS, or game seven of the Series.

But every once in a while a team redeems itself with costly victories that shake up the playoff hopes of its September visitors. And oh, how sweet that is!

"You want a wild card?" the Nationals asked Arizona. "We'll show you a wild card." And then they knocked the Diamondbacks right out of the wild card race with late pairs and flushes worthy of a Townes Van Zandt song. We got out the brooms and the Diamondbacks headed for the airport having lost their last chance, ever, to win a game in Washington wearing purple.

And when the Cardinals came to town, you just knew they blew off the four-game run of Nationals come-from-behind triumphs as a fluke. Sure, it hadn't been done since the '23 Giants, but this is Washington we're talking about, right? First in war, first in peace, last in the NL East. Managed by the man who got two whole teams worth of votes for "worst manager" from his own division. With a fire sale of bench talent already underway. And, most importantly, not a single starting pitcher capable of throwing into the fifth inning.

The mighty Cardinals looked at the Diamondbacks as they passed in the concourse at National Airport and the shook their heads. "Pfff," they said to each other. "What losers."

To which the Nationals said, "Think again, redbirds. We're the real wild cards in this league," and for the second time this season played the best game of baseball played by any team this year. Lately it's been Nook and Ryan Number Three and Other Marlon, RIP, coming up big. But wild cards are like that. It's never five-card stud, kings wild, is it? It's deuces, maybe, or treys, or some days just the whole deck of cards you thought were in the cellar of the NL East for good.

On Labor Day, it was Ramono wild, and with him on the table every hand the Cardinals had nothing and then Ramono hit the home run off of Sosa and it just didn't matter whether he kept the no-no going because the Cardinals were done. Oh, sure, they got that hit and all, and too bad for Ramono he couldn't get the no-hitter or the complete game or even the shutout on account of Pujols' homer, but come on, it's Albert Freakin Pujols, but the damage was done. The only team outside the NL East with a magic number got whupped by the wildest cards of all, and suddenly a six-game lead with two more to play in Washington doesn't look like such a great hand anymore.