In Memory of Glenn Holland of Joplin

Glenn: You will forever be missed by me. I will never forget our wonderful "wall bangs" we shared while listening to the Cardinals at work. A Cardinal would hit a home run and we would bang on the wall to each other...next thing I know, you would come over to my office with near tears in your eyes from being so excited. I always thought that was so cool of you.
Your love for your wife Lorie, your daughter Rachel, and your Grandkids were unmatched and I loved listening to you tell stories about them.

I wrote the following poem with you in mind and told Aimee that I wanted to get it framed and give it to you as a present. I'm so distraught that I never did...


“Pujols at the Bat”

“Pujols at the Bat” by Michael Ray Whitescarver
A play on “Casey at the Bat” by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Cardinal nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then with J-Rod down on strikes, and Mabry in the same,
Pallor wreathed the features of the fans of Redbird fame.

A Cardinal few turned off the tube in deep despair and fear;
No longer could they hold the thought that this would be their year.
Others thought, “If only Pujols could get but a whack at that –
We’d put up even money now, with Pujols at the bat.”

But Eck preceded Pujols, and so did Jimmy E.
The former was a pipsqueak and the latter struggling.
So upon that stricken multitude, a death-like silence sat,
With Lidge there seemed but little chance of Pujols getting to bat.

David Eckstein bounced a single, having only one strike more,
And the streaky slugger Edmonds, then went and took ball four.
And when the dust had settled, oh what a sight to see,
There was Eckstein waiting at second, and on first Jimmy E.

Then all across Cardinal Nation, there arose a thunderous yell;
It rumbled in the valley, it rattled in the dell.
The announcers sat in silent fear, without a single stat,
For Pujols, mighty Albert Pujols, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Pujols’ manner as he stepped up to the plate;
There was pride in Pujols’ bearing, and focus on his face.
And when, responding to the boos, he re-adjusted his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt, ‘twas Pujols at the bat.

A million eyes were on him, as he blinked for just a spurt;
Praying for one little ounce of strength, to on that baseball put a hurt.
And while the closing pitcher got a visit on the mound
Sir Albert stood in concentration, as he surveyed all around.

And when the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air;
Pujols took a hefty rip, but missed with an inch to spare.
A slider from the closer Lidge, had been the pitch he missed;
A groan went up from Cardinal fans, as Astros’ cheered and hissed.

From the benches full of teammates, came decibels of sound,
As Houston thought they were moving on to the next and final round.
And now Brad Lidge holds the ball, and now he lets it go;
And now the air is shattered by the force of Pujols’ blow.

It brought back Cardinal Nation, the series was alive;
Cards fans had gotten their desperate plea, a homer from #5.
And to this day, kids relive the game and play the glorious sight;
When Albert Pujols hit that shot into the Texas night.


I'll forever cherish our wonderful memories and miss you my great friend!
Mike Whitescarver

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Mike & Aimee