Baseball season is over, so unless I find the need to talk about how beautiful/wonderful Jacoby or Gordon is, I probably won't be bringing it up for a while. Except for right now, because I need to get it out of my system.
This season has been terrible, more disappointing than I could ever have expected. There were high hopes for both of my baseball teams, especially the Red Sox, who were easily the early favorites to win the World Series. The White Sox appeared to have an exceptionally solid lineup as well, with a record payroll, so things looked promising.
The White Sox got off to a good start, trouncing the Indians on opening day, sort of. They won 15-10 and also made snow angels on the field, because it was snowing in Ohio and the Indians weren't awesome enough to think of it themselves. Gordon got three hits, and I thought: I love you so fucking much, Gordon Beckham, and we are in for a kickass year.
Ultimately he ended up with a crappy batting average but a sterling defensive season, and at one point, super hot black eyes. (It is my professional opinion that Gordon would benefit from some more time in the minor leagues, but what do I know.)
But things went badly for everybody, not just Gordon, not even mostly Gordon, and they lost more games than they won. C'est la vie, they were hardly the only team with a sub-.500 record.
The Red Sox are a more complicated case. They went 0-6 to kick off the season, highly inauspicious for a team as celebrated as they were. After that they won about a million games, helped in no small part by one of the most awesome baseball players to ever baseball (verb), Jacoby Ellsbury. After winning lots and lots and lots of games and losing like eight, the Red Sox proceeded to go 7-20 in the month of September.
It was pretty much the worst meltdown ever. Jacoby was still fine, more than fine, a baseball god, really. He carried that whole team on his gorgeous shoulders. Their season would've ended even sooner if not for him, and if the Red Sox don't at least buy him a cake, then they are terrible, terrible people.
The whole season came down to two games last night — the Tampa Bay Rays vs. the Yankees, and the Red Sox vs. the Orioles. It started out fine, the Red Sox were up 3-2 and the Yankees were winning 7-0, and when it started to rain and they pulled the tarp and I went to bed, I thought, "we've got this."
We didn't have much, our pitching is abysmal and our hitting is only barely better, but you know. There was the chance that maybe, miracles are not unprecedented for the Red Sox. But then I woke up to the season being over, the Rays having gotten the miracle, and the Sox coming back to Boston.
The season has been tumultous, to say the least. And I'm just tired. I'm glad I don’t like any other sports because this is… exhausting is too mild a word for it, I am just so burnt out. I'm starting to understand Billy's perspective, all the times he's just thrown up his hands in exasperation and been like, fuck baseball.
As I explained to somebody recently, I don't have time to follow much aside from baseball. Following two teams means that there is at least one game on every single day, some of which overlap and I can watch two at once, some of which don't, and even though I don't watch every single game, I watch a lot. It is a huge time commitment, even if there is a ton of multitasking going on. I mean, I never just watch baseball, my brain doesn't work that way. Thank god, too, because that would be a lot of time spent staring at the TV. Or whatever. I'm tired just thinking about it.
Maybe things will happen in the offseason that will get me excited again. I don't know.
I'm tired. And I'm done with this topic. And baseball. For now.
No comments:
Post a Comment