We’re already arguing about it because that’s what this part of the year does to you. Nothing’s happened yet and somehow everything has. You can feel the season starting to lean forward, like the team is stretching before the first pitch even counts. This is the phase where you stare at the rotation and convince yourself it makes sense, then wake up at 2 a.m. thinking about the fifth spot again. Same with the lineup. Who’s actually getting everyday at-bats. Who’s still being talked about like a maybe.

There’s a quiet tension around Busch right now. Not panic. More like unfinished business. The core feels close but not settled. We’re watching to see which version of this team shows up once the games stop being theoretical. Is the defense as clean as it looked on paper. Does the bullpen sort itself out without nightly heartburn. Does the offense grind through those dead stretches instead of folding them up and going home.

What we keep coming back to is rhythm. Cardinals baseball is supposed to have one. Crisp innings, smart risks, pressure absorbed instead of chased. You can feel when it’s there and you really feel when it’s not. These early games are where that rhythm either starts humming or stays stubbornly quiet.

You circle dates without admitting you’re circling them. Division opponents, cold nights, random weekday games that somehow tell you more than the marquee ones. You tell yourself it’s too early to read into things and then you’re reading into everything anyway.

This is the part where being in the park matters. Seeing who looks comfortable. Who tightens up. Who feeds off the noise. It’s all still open. That’s why you go.