I want you to imagine a property line dispute.
Not just a simple disagreement over offense,
but a feud that has been going on for so long
that nobody actually remembers the first argument.
Now, I want you to imagine that exact same feud
has played out publicly on a patch of grass and
dirt over 2 ,500 times since 1885. It is... Honestly,
a genuinely staggering number when you sit with
it. Oh, totally. I mean, 2 ,500 meetings. It's
like an entire alternate history of America played
out in nine -inning increments. Exactly. And
we have a massive stack of sources on the table
today to look at this historical texts, media
analyses, and this fantastic book by Buzz Bissinger,
all to help us unpack the iconic rivalry between
the Chicago Cubs and the St. Louis Cardinals.
You know, a lot of people might know it as the
Route 66 rivalry. Right, or the High 55 rivalry.
But we're going to use this deep dive to explore
why this isn't just a baseball rivalry. No, not
at all. We're looking at a century -long turf
war, one that was shaped by geography, economics,
and honestly, some of the most spectacular pettiness
in recorded history. And what makes this deep
dive so fascinating to me is how sports rivalries,
they act as a mirror. We are just talking about
men hitting a baseball. We are looking at a mechanism
that has fundamentally shaped the psychology
of entire generations of fans in the Midwest.
It dictates how millions of people view themselves
and, crucially, how they view the people living
just one town over. Let's start right there,
actually, with the borders, because before we
get to the literal riots. And yes, there are
riots in the source material. Oh, absolutely.
But before that, we have to establish why these
two fan bases care with such a burning passion.
And it really comes down to real estate. In Bissener's
book Three Nights in August, he draws this brilliant
contrast. He looks at the Yankees and Red Sox
out on the East Coast, and he basically calls
that rivalry a tabloid -filled soap opera about
money and ego. Which is pretty accurate. Yeah.
But the Cubs and Cardinals, he says that is entirely
about geography and territorial rights. That
distinction right there is the key to everything.
How so? Well, the East Coast rivalries are largely
about media markets, right? Star power. They're
constantly fighting for the back page of the
newspaper. Sure. But the Midwest rivalry is about.
literal ground. If you look back to the first
half of the 20th century, the St. Louis Cardinals
were the southernmost team in the National League.
Right. And they were the westernmost team for
a long time too. So they didn't just have a city.
they claimed a massive multi -state empire stretching
across the South and the lower Midwest. And how
did they enforce that empire? It was radio. Yeah,
exactly. Specifically, KMOX radio in St. Louis.
We're talking about a 50 ,000 watt blowtorch,
an AM radio station. Monster signal. It was.
At night, that signal would bounce off the ionosphere
and just blanket half the country. You had like...
farmers in Arkansas and Oklahoma pulling in Cardinals
games. Right, but Chicago wasn't just sitting
there letting them take it. Right. No, definitely
not. The Cubs were claiming the upper Midwest
using their own clear channel AM monster stations
like WGN and WBBM. So if you picture this...
It's basically an invisible border war fought
over radio waves in the middle of the night.
It's a technological battleground. Yeah. And
it created this very real geographic fault line.
Yeah. Like, if you look at central Illinois,
you are sitting right in the middle of that static.
It was a literal front line. Wow. Families, friends,
entire towns were... divided, based entirely
on which radio signal came in clearer on their
porch. Or just which broadcasts their parents
had tuned into. Yeah, exactly. It became this
profound cultural signifier. Which brings up
this amazing observation from the commentator
George Will. We found this 1998 commencement
address he gave at Washington University in St.
Louis. And he grew up in Champaign, Illinois,
right? Yes, right in the teeth of that central
battleground. And Will argued that this geographic
split actually dictated his friend's political
and psychological development. That is wild.
It's fascinating. He said all his friends became
Cardinals fans rooting for the great Stan Musel.
And because the Cardinals won so consistently,
his friends grew up cheerfully convinced that
the world is a benign place. So they naturally
became optimistic liberals. Exactly. While Will,
on the other hand, chose the Cubs, he pointed
out that Cubs hadn't won a World Series since
1908, which he noted was two years before Mark
Twain even died. That really puts it in perspective.
It really does. So Will claimed that growing
up a Cubs fan made him, and I'm quoting here,
gloomy, pessimistic, morose. It's just a really
striking framework, the idea that the operational
success or failure of a local sports franchise
might actually wire your worldview and your expectations
of life. No, I do want to throw in a quick caveat
here for you listening, just because we're looking
directly at Will's text. We are definitely not
endorsing his personal definitions of what makes
someone psychology liberal or conservative. And
we are absolutely not taking any political sides
here. We're just laying out his argument to show
you just how deeply... This rivalry penetrates
the cultural identity of the region. Right. I
mean, he wasn't talking about batting averages.
He was talking about the human soul. Perfectly
put. And that cultural depth is so thoroughly
baked into the region that Hollywood actually
uses it as shorthand. Oh, like an Ozark. Yes.
If you look at the Netflix show Ozark, they needed
to establish Jason Dateman's character, Marty
Bird, as a true Chicago guy who is totally out
of his element in Missouri. Right. They don't
give him a long monologue about missing deep
dish pizza or the skyline. He just declares to
a local that he was raised to hate the Cardinals.
And the local instantly fires back that he was
raised to hate the Cubs. That's it. Two lines
dialogue and you instantly understand the cultural
friction. So it's wild that AM radio and geography
cemented these borders in the 20th century. But
if we dig into the historical sources, the actual
hatred predates radio by decades. Oh, long before
radio. Yeah, it wasn't even about sports originally,
was it? Not at all. It started as a really aggressive
economic rivalry in the late eighteen hundreds.
Chicago and St. Louis were locked in this fierce
existential battle for trade dominance in the
Midwest. Right. They were competing for railroad
lines. Exactly. They were fighting over shipping
routes along the Mississippi River and just generally
battling for commercial supremacy as the true
gateway to the West. Right. And according to
the book, Before they were Cardinals, this broader
civic rivalry directly led to the formation of
the St. Louis Brown Stockings in 1875. And that
team was created quite literally by local businessmen.
Right. Just to compete with the Chicago White
Stockings. It was corporate warfare. They just
happened to be wearing baseball pants. I love
that. And this tension culminated in the 1885
World Series. Let me tell you, if you think modern
sports have drama, the 1880s were absolute chaos.
It was a completely different game. ends in a
forfeit. Why? Because the St. Louis manager,
Charles Komisky, got so incredibly mad at an
umpire's call in the sixth inning that he just
pulled his entire team off the field. He just
refused to play. Yeah. Chicago was leading five
to four, so the umpire just declared Chicago
the winner. But here is where the lack of institutional
control in early baseball becomes so fascinating.
What happened? The series just continued. There
was no overarching commissioner to lay down the
law. So ultimately, C. Lewis just claimed that
the Game 2 forfeit shouldn't count. They just
ignored the umpire. Completely. They ignored
the official ruling, boldly declared themselves
the champions of the world, and then the two
clubs just agreed to split the thousand dollar
prize money right down the middle. Wait, hold
on. They just split the money? Five hundred bucks
each. How is that even a championship? They just
walked away with cash and a permanent grudge.
Pretty much. which perfectly sets up the 1886
rematch. Oh man, and this is where the sheer
unadulterated pettiness really shines through
in the history books. It gets so petty. So in
game five, Chicago was dealing with massive injuries.
Their pitchers arms are completely dead. Right.
So Chicago tries to bring in a recruit from the
minor leagues just to throw some pitches and
get through the game. But St. Louis flat out
refuses to let him on the field. It wouldn't
allow it. No. They invoke the rigid rules and
force Chicago to put their shortstop and their
right fielder on the pitchers mound. And unpredictably.
Or, well, very predictably, St. Louis crushes
them 10 to 3. It was just a ruthless capitalization
on an opponent's physical misfortune. Truly.
And it forced a decisive. Game six, which they
actually had to start early, right? Like a two
point one eight p .m. Yeah, because stadiums
didn't have lights yet and they needed to ensure
they had enough daylight to finish all nine innings.
Right. So it goes into the 10th inning tied three
to three and a St. Louis player named Kurt Welch
scores the winning run on a wild pitch with what
became legendarily known as the fifteen thousand
dollar slide. Yes. So St. Louis officially wins
the championship and the bitterness between the
two cities is sealed permanently. Sealed in stone.
I have to ask about the mechanics of this era
though. Were they even playing the same sport
back then or was 19th century baseball just like
a localized brawl that occasionally featured
a bat? That's a very fair question. Right. Because
we fast forward a bit to 1928 and the violence
actually spills off the field. Hack Wilson a
famous slugger for the Cubs, gets so fed up with
a heckler at Wrigley Field that he physically
jumps into the box seats to fight the guy. Just
leaps right in. And this sparks a riot involving
an estimated 5 ,000 fans swarming the field.
Yeah, the police had to be called in to break
it up. And the craziest part? The fans sued Wilson
for $20 ,000, and a jury actually ruled in favor
of the player. You know what's fascinating here
is that the chaos of the early game perfectly
mirrored the unregulated booming economies of
the cities themselves. Oh, that makes a lot of
sense. You have to remember, Chicago and St.
Louis were raw, rapidly expanding, and fiercely
competitive metropolises. Right. There wasn't
much room for decorum or like institutional oversight.
Right. The jury ruling in Hack Wilson's favor
tells you everything you need to know about the
era's attitude towards settling disputes. It
was frontier justice. Exactly. If you provoked
a fight, The public consensus was that you deserved
whatever happened next. The baseball diamond
wasn't a pristine sanctuary. It was just an extension
of the frontier capitalism happening out on the
streets. That makes perfect sense. It was the
Wild West, just with a ball and a glove. So the
tone is set. The hatred is very real. And as
we move deeper into the 20th century, these two
franchises start trading these massive eras of
dominance. The Cubs dominate early on. They win
championships in 1907 and 1908. But then they
fall into this legendary 108 year drought. A
very long drought. They wouldn't win another
World Series until 2016. That isn't just a slump.
That's multiple generations of fans living and
dying without ever seeing a championship. And
while the Cubs are wandering in the wilderness
for a century, the Cardinals become an absolute
dynasty. They rack up 11 World Series titles
over the decades. Only the New York Yankees have
more in the entire history of Major League Baseball.
That is wild. It is. And this disparity in success
fundamentally altered the psychological dynamic
of the rivalry. How so? Well, the Cardinals became
the established, confident, almost arrogant powerhouse.
you know, the cardinal way. Right. While the
Cubs fully embraced the identity of the lovable
cursed underdogs. Which sets the stage perfectly
for the modern era. Specifically, a game in 1984
that shifted the national narrative entirely.
The Sandberg game. Yes. It's June 23, 1984. The
Cubs are actually having a really good season,
but nobody outside of Chicago takes them seriously
because of that baggage. A century of losing.
Exactly. And they have this second baseman, Ryan
Sandberg. He's a great fielder, he's fast, but
he is not known as a power hitter. He is practically
invisible to the rest of the country. And on
the mound for the St. Louis Cardinals, you have
their closer Bruce Sutter. To understand the
stakes here, you have to understand Sutter's
status at the time. He was the premier closer
of the era. He saved 45 games that year alone.
Wow. He was the prototype for the modern, hard
-throwing relief pitcher who comes in exclusively
for the ninth inning to completely shut the door.
He was untouchable. So Sutter is basically the
final boss of a video game. That is the perfect
way to describe him. You aren't supposed to be
able to beat him once, let alone twice in a row.
So it's the bottom of the ninth. Cubs are trailing
nine to eight. Sandberg steps up. And he hits
a home run off setter to tie the game. The crowd
goes wild, but it's not over. The game goes to
extra innings, and the Cardinals score two runs
in the top of the 10th. Right. So now it's the
bottom of the 10th. Cubs are down by two. One
man on base. Samberg comes up again, he faces
Sutter again, and he hits another game -tying
home run. It's unbelievable. The broadcast calls
for that moment are completely etched into baseball
history. They really are. On the radio, you had
the legendary Harry Carrey screaming, he did
it again, the game is tied. Holy cow. Yeah, and
on the national NBC broadcast, Bob Costas is
just yelling in disbelief, do you believe it?
and the Cubs go on to win in the 11th. But wait,
hold on. You're painting this as this monumental
narrative -shifting event, right? Mm -hmm. But
looking at the historical stats, the Cubs didn't
even win the World Series that year. They lost
in the playoffs. Right. They did. So did a single
regular season game actually change the trajectory
of the franchise, or is this just nostalgia talking?
It is an excellent question, and the answer lies
in the media landscape of 1984. Okay. It didn't
change their ultimate postseason fate, sure,
but it unequivocally changed their national brand.
Because it was on TV. Because of the NBC Game
of the Week. Yeah. Before the explosion of cable
sports networks, this was the game the entire
country was watching. Oh, I see. It legitimized
the 1984 Cubs to the rest of the nation. It transformed
Ryan Sandberg from a regional talent into a national
superstar, literally putting him on the path
to the Hall of Fame. But most importantly for
the rivalry, it proved on national television
that the cursed cubs could stand toe to toe with
the ruthless Cardinal machine and win. It re
-energized the border war for the television
era. OK, so we've moved from the radio waves
to the national TV screens. But a true rivalry
isn't just about pure hatred. No, it's hot. If
it was just blind animosity, it would eventually
burn itself out. It's really a shared ecosystem,
you know? These teams rely on each other. They
do. And as we pivot into the late 90s and early
2000s in our sources, we see how deeply intertwined
they actually are. You cannot discuss this rivalry
without talking about the summer of 1998. The
home run chase. Yes. McGuire Sosa home run chase.
After the devastating players strike in 1994,
baseball was bleeding fans. People were so angry.
They were. The sport desperately needed a narrative
to bring people back to the stadiums. and they
got it in the form of Mark McGuire of the Cardinals
and Sammy Sosa of the Cubs. Racing to break Roger
Maris' single season home run record of 61. It
was a global phenomenon, and the script couldn't
have been written better by Hollywood. In early
September, the two teams meet for a two game
series in St. Louis. McGuire... hits his record
tying 61st home run against the Cubs. Right.
And then the very next day, he hits number 62,
also against the Cubs. But the most incredible
part of that moment isn't the swing itself. No,
it's what happens after. Yeah. As McGuire is
rounding the bases, Sammy Sosa comes all the
way in from the outfield and physically embraces
his rival on the field. That image of the embrace
is vital because it showed a profound mutual
respect. Totally. Sosa ended up hitting 66 home
runs that year and McGuire hit 70. But Sosa won
the MVP and he dedicated every single one of
his runs to the memory of Harry Carrey. Who had
passed away earlier that year. And we have a
talk about Carrey because he is the ultimate
symbol of this shared ecosystem. He really is.
Because Carrey didn't just broadcast for the
Cubs. He called games for the Cardinals for 24
seasons. Yeah, long time. He was drinking Anheuser
-Busch in the booth in St. Louis before he ever
got to Chicago. How does a fan base even process
that kind of cognitive dissonance? It's wild.
Like, the legendary voice of your hated enemies
suddenly moves up I -55 and becomes the beloved
grandfather figure of your own franchise. It
creates a strange sort of shared custody. You
know, it proves that despite the territorial
wars, the two cities are speaking the exact same
baseball language. Right. And that shared bond
becomes even more apparent during moments of
real devastating tragedy. Yeah, we have to touch
on 2002. Right. In 2002, the Cardinals pitcher,
Darrell Kill, tragically passed away in his hotel
room while the team was in Chicago to play the
Cubs. It was awful. The game obviously had to
be canceled. But it was the Cubs catcher Joe
Girardi, a guy who had actually played for both
the Cubs and the Cardinals during his career
who took a microphone. He stood in front of a
confused Wrigley Field crowd with tears in his
eyes and he asked the Chicago fans to pray for
the St. Louis Cardinals family. When you look
at that Girardi speech or the Sosa embrace, it
really proves that these franchises are inextricably
linked. Absolutely. The animosity is real, certainly.
We saw that heat up again in the 2000s with the
intense managerial feud between the Cubs Dusty
Baker and the Cardinals Tony La Russa. Oh, they
could not stand each other. They fiercely protected
their players. They both believed in old school
unwritten protocol and they despise being shown
up. But underneath that fierce competition is
a shared history. They are two halves of the
same Midwestern soul. A rivalry without respect
is just a mismatch, right? Exactly. The fact
that they have pushed each other for over 140
years means they validate each other's existence.
Yeah. St. Louis needs Chicago to measure its
success and Chicago needs St. Louis to give its
underdog narrative meaning. So think about it
for a second. Does a century -long rivalry actually
require a foundation of deep grudging respect
to survive this long? Because based on everything
we've read today, the answer seems to be a resounding
yes. It really does. To recap our journey today.
Wait, no ellipsis for me to recap our journey.
We started with the 1885 forfeits and the sheer
unregulated pettiness of early baseball. We fought
an invisible war over AM radio frequencies bouncing
off the atmosphere in the dead of night. We watched
Ryan Sandberg hit impossible home runs against
the final boss of relievers. And we saw Sammy
Sosa and Mark McGuire save baseball while honoring
the exact same legendary broadcaster. Right.
This deep dive reveals how sports rival Rivalries
act as a living, breathing historical record
of a region's economy, technology, and psychology.
And if we connect this to the bigger picture,
it raises a really important question for the
future. What's that? Well, we learned that this
rivalry was built on geographic borders. Local
radio signals battling for physical territory
in the Midwest. Yeah. It makes you wonder. in
our modern era of borderless streaming, where
you can watch any team from anywhere in the world
right on your phone at any time. Will geographic
rivalries like the Cubs and Cardinals eventually
fade away, or will we just find entirely new
digital borders to fight over? Oh, that is a
fascinating thought to leave on. Are we losing
the turf war to the internet? It's entirely possible.
Well, thank you so much for joining us on this
deep dive. Keep exploring. Stay curious. And
the next time you cross a state line, just remember
you might be stepping over an invisible property
line in a 140 year old feud. We'll catch you
next time.