Well, That Happened.
So the Red Sox lost last night. (In case you were, you know, living under a rock and didn't know that yet.)
Those folks down in Baltimore, I suspect, are crowing with glee. I know some very nice people who live in Baltimore who are also baseball fans. However, even Vladdie's presence on that team cannot make me happy about that, all apologies to the Baltimore baseball fans who read this.
I am not.
I was at work until 8 pm on the west coast.
When I last had a chance to check the score, the Yankees were up 7 runs on the Rays, and the Sox had a precarious 1 run lead over the Orioles and were in a rain delay in the 7th inning.
I got home and the game was still on since there was a rain delay, so I got to watch the whole bloody collapse live.
My first thought was that I was going to take my ball and go home and not watch the playoffs at all because my team was out. Apparently, I am 12.
This morning, I feel like I have a baseball hangover. Every time I see a headline or catch a radio story about it, it hurts all over again.
Of course, I'm a long term fan, so this is familiar territory.
I realize for people who don't have a practically genetic predisposition to take the position of Charlie Brown to the Red Sox's Lucy, this may not make sense, but I do think that I have an innate tendency to hope that the Red Sox will magically pull it off this time, even though they have collapsed far more times--usually at the moment most calculated to dash our hopes the most deeply--than not.
Much, much more of my life has been spent watching the Red Sox raise the hopes of their fans, only to dash them epically in the end than has been spent in the odd position of having a team that people legitimately think is one of the best (and now most expensive to boot) in the game.
Now, in the cold light of the morning after, I'm kind of relieved. I don't want the Sox to get to the playoffs and play there as badly as they've played everywhere this month.
And the truth is that I like Joe Maddon a lot, and I can't help but root for Evan Longoria, so because I have about as much self-restraint when it comes to baseball as I do when it comes to video games or whatever fandom I'm in, I'll be watching the games. At least unless it's the Yankees that the AL ultimately sends to the World Series.
It's just deeply depressing to me that a season that started with hopes of a World Series are ending before the playoffs, and the best consolation I have is that the team only dropped to tied for the wild card slot on my birthday instead of losing it outright.
That's not much of a consolation. That's slicing the distinctions rather fine to find a hint of hope, no?
I'll just keep telling myself that that's still better than watching them bumble around the field like dolts in the playoffs.
Those folks down in Baltimore, I suspect, are crowing with glee. I know some very nice people who live in Baltimore who are also baseball fans. However, even Vladdie's presence on that team cannot make me happy about that, all apologies to the Baltimore baseball fans who read this.
I am not.
I was at work until 8 pm on the west coast.
When I last had a chance to check the score, the Yankees were up 7 runs on the Rays, and the Sox had a precarious 1 run lead over the Orioles and were in a rain delay in the 7th inning.
I got home and the game was still on since there was a rain delay, so I got to watch the whole bloody collapse live.
My first thought was that I was going to take my ball and go home and not watch the playoffs at all because my team was out. Apparently, I am 12.
This morning, I feel like I have a baseball hangover. Every time I see a headline or catch a radio story about it, it hurts all over again.
Of course, I'm a long term fan, so this is familiar territory.
I realize for people who don't have a practically genetic predisposition to take the position of Charlie Brown to the Red Sox's Lucy, this may not make sense, but I do think that I have an innate tendency to hope that the Red Sox will magically pull it off this time, even though they have collapsed far more times--usually at the moment most calculated to dash our hopes the most deeply--than not.
Much, much more of my life has been spent watching the Red Sox raise the hopes of their fans, only to dash them epically in the end than has been spent in the odd position of having a team that people legitimately think is one of the best (and now most expensive to boot) in the game.
Now, in the cold light of the morning after, I'm kind of relieved. I don't want the Sox to get to the playoffs and play there as badly as they've played everywhere this month.
And the truth is that I like Joe Maddon a lot, and I can't help but root for Evan Longoria, so because I have about as much self-restraint when it comes to baseball as I do when it comes to video games or whatever fandom I'm in, I'll be watching the games. At least unless it's the Yankees that the AL ultimately sends to the World Series.
It's just deeply depressing to me that a season that started with hopes of a World Series are ending before the playoffs, and the best consolation I have is that the team only dropped to tied for the wild card slot on my birthday instead of losing it outright.
That's not much of a consolation. That's slicing the distinctions rather fine to find a hint of hope, no?
I'll just keep telling myself that that's still better than watching them bumble around the field like dolts in the playoffs.