St. Louis – The Cardinals’ locker room was quiet today. No music. No the usual laughter. Only a very real emptiness, as Brendan Donovan officially left the St. Louis Cardinals. And in that moment, Lars Nootbaar – a close teammate and friend off the court – couldn’t hold back his tears.
It wasn’t a typical reaction to a trade. It was the pain of a team that had just lost another leader, after already witnessing the departure of Nolan Arenado – their greatest spiritual icon.
“We’ve lost a leader… and now a brother.”

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In his emotional statement, Nootbaar spoke slowly, his voice trembling:
“We’ve lost a leader as valuable as Nolan Arenado. And now, we have to say goodbye to another talented brother like Brendan.”
No flowery words were needed. That single statement was enough for Cardinals fans to understand:
This isn’t just about baseball.
Donovan was never the loudest player. He didn’t need to yell to show his role. But in the eyes of Nootbaar and many young Cardinals players, Donovan was the silent leader.
He was the one who: arrived at the court earliest, was willing to switch positions for the team, sat with younger teammates after bad games, and always said the right thing at the right time, never saying more than necessary.

Nootbaar choked up:
“Brendan taught me how to be a professional player, but more importantly, he taught me how to be a person in this locker room.”
Nolan Arenado’s departure has left a huge void in the team’s spirit. He wasn’t just a star, but the team’s emotional compass.
And when Brendan Donovan left, the Cardinals not only lost another All-Star, they lost: a bridge between the old and new generations, a role model of “Cardinals baseball,” a respected voice in every internal meeting.
For Nootbaar, it was a second blow to the team’s heart.
“We’re trying to be strong, but it would be a lie to say this doesn’t hurt.”
Lars Nootbaar and Brendan Donovan were more than just teammates. They were friends, brothers, people who shared pressure, criticism, and even the quietest moments.
They weathered losing streaks together, fought to maintain the Cardinals’ identity, and protected each other from media storms.
Nootbaar said:
“There are days when you don’t need tactical advice. You just need someone sitting next to you and saying ‘everything will be alright.’ Brendan was always that person.”
According to several internal sources, the atmosphere in the Cardinals’ clubhouse was unusually heavy after the announcement. Some young players were silent, others just shook their heads.
This wasn’t a reaction of defiance. This was genuine regret.

One coaching staff member admitted:
“We can replace positions on the field. But replacing a person like Donovan isn’t easy.”
Nootbaar: “I understand baseball is business… but people are people.”
Lars Nootbaar doesn’t blame the management. He understands the logic of the market, understands the Cardinals are restructuring.
But he also spoke frankly:
“Baseball is business. I understand that. But when you’ve been involved long enough, you can’t just view people like Brendan as assets.”
That’s the voice of a young player growing up in loss.
Nootbaar sends his best wishes to Donovan at the Seattle Mariners. He believed Brendan would succeed, would be loved, and would become a pillar of the team.

But he also admitted:
“St. Louis will always be a part of him. And he will always be a part of us.”
The Cardinals enter a new chapter – with many gaps.
The consecutive departures of Arenado and Donovan put the Cardinals before a big question:
Who will keep the flame alive?
For Nootbaar and the younger generation of players, the answer is unclear. But one thing is certain: they have just learned a painful lesson about change.
Not every trade is measured by WAR or improved statistics. There are trades that leave tears, that leave a void that cannot be filled by statistics.
Lars Nootbaar cried. Not because the Cardinals are weaker. But because the Cardinals have just lost another brother.
And sometimes, in top-level sports, that is the greatest loss.






