In the summer of 2024, as the crowd at Busch Stadium roared in victory, Tommy Edman — the Cardinals’ silent right-hander — sat alone in the locker room, his right arm swaddled, his eyes staring blankly. He had just undergone wrist surgery, a seemingly minor injury that had put his entire season in jeopardy.
Few knew that, beyond the velvety base slides and the sun-kissed shots, Edman was suffering another pain — his father had just been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer, while he himself was unable to fight it.
“You can handle the pain in your wrist, but your heart… it’s hard to hold back,” the strength coach whispered, as Edman sat quietly in front of his locker, holding a never-sent letter — written to his father, who had taken him to baseball practice since he was 6 years old.
“Dad, I’m sorry I couldn’t come home… But if you watched me every inning — know that every swing I made was to show you still fighting.”
Teammates knew, but no one talked about it. Edman didn’t want to be the center of the hurt. He returned late in the season, in a game against the Cubs in mid-September — it was a light rain that night, and Edman came in as a substitute in the ninth inning. He didn’t hit a home run, he didn’t steal a base. But he dove in for a double.
And when the ball was tucked under his arm, Edman looked up to the sky… rain and tears.
Days later, his father died. The final letter was never sent.
Beyond the Hits
Tommy Edman was never named MVP. But to the Cardinals and their fans, he was a symbol of the quiet zone, of unfulfilled love, and of a heart still fighting for something bigger than basketball.