It is officially that point in the semester. I can often be found in the newsroom, curled up on the floor in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and wishing for brighter days. I am losing hair, losing sleep and losing motivation.
No, I’m not referring to the stress associated with my (often futile) attempt to balance classes and work while still maintaining some semblance of a social life, although that might be a contributing factor to my steady decline in appearance over the past four weeks. Let’s face it. Mornings are hard.
My reason for being so pathetically distraught over the past two weeks is so much more than typical daily struggles. It can only mean one thing: the Road to October.
Rangers fans everywhere are riding the fine line between being passionate and invested enthusiasts and absolute lunatics. They are easily recognizable these days. Just look for the telltale signs, such as screaming at TV screens in public, constantly checking the MLB standings to see how far their beloved team has fallen and pulling out their hair in clumps while muttering to themselves in harsh tones about how Grandma could run to first faster than half of the team.
I’m certainly no exception. After a seven-game losing streak, finding ourselves heading into a battle for the Wild Card, watching the playoffs slip through our fingers, I am teetering over the edge, straight into a pit of insanity.
No sports fan ever wants to see their team play poorly when the stakes are high, and right now our boys look like the tee-ball team that stands in the outfield and picks daisies until they get free snow cones at the end of the game.
I’ve often been confronted about my passion for my teams and the unhealthy correlation between our winning (or losing) and my mood. Many people have told me that putting so much investment into a bunch of strangers is crazy, and they’re probably right. But it’s certainly not unheard of.
Any night of the week, I can check my Twitter feed to find multiple posts about how crazy this week’s episode of “Breaking Bad” was, complaints about who got booted off of “The Bachelor” and sob stories over the next character killed off of “Pretty Little Liars.” We’re all invested in something. It’s just a matter of what catches our interest.
Does my continued support of a losing team make me a masochist? Maybe. But crying over the rejection of Juan Pablo isn’t much of an improvement. Is my investment a little bit crazy? Probably. But I would be more worried about the avid watchers of “Catfish.”
Do I regret it? Absolutely not.
I love my boys when we’re winning. I love my boys when we’re losing. And I’ll continue to watch them as they do both, because it’s America’s favorite past time.
So God bless America, God bless Texas, and God bless baseball.
