That's it; I'm out
I give up. I do not understand the archaic magic of this game. It's the very unpredictability I love so much, but its starting to wear me out.
This season, very little has been logical. The O's imploded in the face of a few weeks of blessed, almost blinding promise, the Yankees have damn near blossomed in spite of the rocky soil that is their aged, often imfirm starting lineup and pitchers. The defending champions have clawed for inches more than they've strode for miles and the whole darn NL West can barely break .500. Giambi found where he left his magic (whether he deserves it or not) and Palmeiro lost it all. There's hope for almost anyone and anxiety for everyone, particularly if you have the peculiar good fortune to be leading your division, at least until you fall apart or your rival catches fire, or at least for the next 20 minutes.
Or let's think for a moment about Tampa Bay. They're the basement-dwelling, no-talent jokes of the American League East. Right? Then how does a team with a .414 winning percantage manage to be so scary to the big bad Sox and Yanks? How does Wakefield get the totally undeserved loss in a one hitter (one lousy hit) against a team with Jeter, A-Rod, Sheffield and Matsui and can't manage to shut down said Devil Rays today?
And speaking of hits, why couldn't our boys (with their supposedly mythic offense) spread out a few of those hits and home runs they got last night into a few of the slumpy losses they've had recently, thus preventing the precarious 1/2 game lead in the first place?
And honestly, it's been the elephant in the room that I've done my best to ignore and/or be perky and hopeful about all season, but ugh, gargh. . . our pitching. I've never seen so many 4-plus ERAs in my life. Our starters have been inconsistent basically all season, our closer might as well have lost an arm in the offseason for all the good he's done, and everybody knows good pitching beats good hitting and our bullpen spent the summer in Pawtucket and why do we bean so many batters and what in the hell is up with Randy Johnson doing better at day games and---
Deep breath. I'm looking for logic that isn't there. I'd probably be better off if I could snuff the persistant little flame of hope inside me. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much as if and when it gets doused with disappointment. But that would be logical, that would make sense. And there's very little sense in baseball.