The legend of Bo
March 22, 2007 by Jason Guarente

Bo Hart holds a unique place in Cardinals history. Nearly four years after he burst onto the big-league scene, he’s still remembered vividly by the fans. Some revere him as a hustling overachiever who enjoyed one summer in the sun. Others chide him as a flash in the pan.
The truth is Hart was a longshot to ever make it to the majors. He stands at 5-11, 175 pounds, was a 33rd round draft pick out of Gonzaga and wasn’t blessed with extraordinary tools. He wasn’t a power hitter. He wasn’t a speedster. He wasn’t a slick fielder. He was just a solid all-around minor leaguer.
How exactly did he make it?
Hart is one of those ballplayers for whom the stars suddenly aligned. He was fortunate to be in a system bereft of position player prospects. He put up solid, if unspectacular, numbers and slowly moved up the ranks. By 2003 he was in Triple-A for the first time — one lucky break from The Show.
On May 25 of that season, second baseman Fernando Vina suffered a torn tendon in his right leg while running out a ground ball. The Cardinals summoned Hart to the big leagues and something extraordinary ensued.
Over the next two weeks, Hart found himself in one those red-hot hitting streaks that players dream about. In his first 10 major-league games, he batted .469 with six extra-base hits. Cardinals fans embraced him because of his all-out effort and he became an instant sensation.
Vina missed three months and Hart took over as the starting second baseman. Once he cooled off, the rookie ended up with respectable numbers. He batted .277 with a .317 on-base percentage in 77 games.
When the next season rolled around, Hart was no longer the unknown newcomer. He was a local star. His autograph was selling for $60 a pop, his name was on the back of T-shirts and some wondered if he just might be the Cardinals’ second baseman of the future.
With Vina gone to the Tigers, Hart entered spring training in 2004 in a fight with former Phillie Marlon Anderson for the starting job. Neither player enjoyed a strong camp and the Cardinals ultimately traded for Tony Womack, who was their leadoff man on the way to the World Series.
Hart started the season as a bench player for the Cardinals. He appeared in 11 games and was given 13 at-bats before he was optioned back to Triple-A — never to return.
How did it all unravel so quickly?
Major league pitchers eventually figured Hart out. He was an excellent fastball hitter who lacked the discipline to lay off breaking balls out of the strike zone. This was evident in his minor-league track record: He never drew more than 46 walks in a season. Once pitchers stopped feeding him fastballs, Hart’s production dropped.
Since his demotion in 2004, Hart’s career has been on a steady decline. Last season he batted .215 in 93 games split between the Cardinals’ and Rockies’ Triple-A clubs. He wasn’t offered a contract over the winter and now finds himself in the Atlantic League hoping to earn another chance.
Even if he never makes it back, Hart has made himself — at the least — a footnote in Cardinals lore. For a few months in 2003, he was the toast of one of America’s great baseball towns.
That’s his baseball legacy.
That’s more than a lot of players ever achieve.








