Pining for Columbia

I’m beginning to understand how my dad felt in the 1980s and 1990s when he came back to Springfield, Mo., for annual family reunions. Although he grew up in the city, much had changed because he had been gone for half a century.

My wife Patty and I spent last weekend in Columbia, where I went to the University of Missouri Journalism School more than 30 years ago. Every time I go back I can’t believe how much the city has changed.

There are new roads, subdivisions and shopping areas where none existed when I last visited just four years ago. Columbia had a population of around 60,000 when I lived there; now it’s 110,000. Considering how the student population has grown in the same time span, Columbia now has twice as many residents than in 1980.

We visited with our good friends John and Liz Moran, whom we have known since the days when Patty and Liz worked in the same office at the university. The Morans and the Kennedys now each have three adult sons; we had none when we met. Driving to Columbia now takes under three hours, what with a Highway 54 expressway bypassing the bumper-to-bumper traffic around Osage Beach.

Columbia is a progressive city, with scenic beauty, a lively entertainment scene and a low cost of living. I wouldn’t mind moving back someday.

Angelic Behavior?

Ah, spring training is upon us and it’s a great time to be a St. Louis Cardinals fan. My team’s rise from nowhere last fall to knock off much-favored opponents en route to a thrilling World Series victory remains fresh in my mind.

I’m actually looking forward to this season more than last spring. That’s when Albert Pujols broke off talks with team management about signing a new contract that would have made him a Cardinal for life.

There is little argument that Pujols has had the greatest 11 seasons to start a career of anyone in the history of the game. The three-time Most Valuable Player became an icon in helping the team to reach three World Series. After professing his desire to remain in St. Louis and insisting that it wasn’t about the money, Pujols spurned overtures the Cardinals had been making for two years and in December accepted a contract proffered by the Angels of Anaheim two days earlier.

The Cardinals reportedly had offered to guarantee Pujols $26 million a year for the next five years. He considered that an insult. He wanted a 10-year contract. But no team in its right mind — which apparently exempts the Angels — would offer such a proposal to a player who is 32 years old. The Angels will pay Pujols $12 million this year (compared to the $16 million the Cardinals shelled out last season) but that will mushroom to $30 million annually by the time he hangs up the spikes at age 42 — if he indeed makes it that long.

Anaheim guarantees $254 million to Pujols in a deal laced with incentives that could push the total much higher. The Cardinals showed business sense in not tying up a quarter of the team’s payroll on one player in each of the next 10 seasons. Pujols might be worth it in the next two or three years, but his body likely will wear down long before 2022.

Already he is showing signs of wear and tear, age, and weight gain. He grounded into more double plays than anyone in the league last season, in part because he is slow afoot. That’s not going to get any better as he ages. In fact, nearly all players begin a gradual — sometimes steep — decline around age 32. By then their athletic skills have peaked.

Beyond the money, I’m not sorry to see Pujols go because of his ever-increasing ego. He stands at home plate to admire a home run ball he hits —although sometimes it hits off the wall and he barely makes it to second base. Or his surly attitude that is apparent in any interview after a good game. He seems joyless, ungrateful and ungracious. For the past several seasons he has become the elephant in the Cardinals clubhouse. No one, including the manager, dared offend him, on or off the field.

Tellingly, for the past eight years, Cardinal players at the end of the season have voted for the best teammate. Eight players have won the honor. Pujols isn’t among them.

A Very Good Life

Tuesday I attended the funeral of my brother’s mother-in-law in York, Neb. In her 96 years and two days on this earth, Leora Law embodied the attributes that many of us strive for, but few of us attain.

I knew Leora for the 46 years my brother has been married. In that time, I never saw her ruffled. She never complained. She was never cross. She never said a harsh word about anyone, to their face or behind their back.

There was no putting on airs with Leora. She had no mood swings depending on circumstances. She enjoyed every day, whether good or bad. Leora had the big picture in mind, and didn’t allow the petty grievances of daily living that sabotage most of us to get her down.

Most impressively, Leora kept a great attitude in her advanced years, when she could no longer walk, see well or hear that great. Just being around family and friends was enough of a reward to keep on going.

Leora’s death allowed my wife and me to spend several days with my brother Dave, his wife Betty, and their daughter Catharine. We spent much time together crying, laughing, sharing meals, playing games and enjoying each other’s company. Making the most of life’s simple pleasures is a lesson Leora lived well.