I had nightmares the last two days that the Caps were going to lose Game 3 and 4. When I awoke this morning, it was with an increasing sense of dread that I debated whether to immediately jump over Jean's slumbering body on the floor and check the score online - or to lie in bed, perpetuating the misery. I chose misery, because I thought that in not knowing, there was still hope.
I'm getting really sick of all this
heartbreak in DC sports. There's probably a lesson here about idolatry and loving something too much.