Well, it’s been a while since the unmentionable happened. I’m just now able to begin talking about it without blowing out blood vessels and such.
I know a lot fans would love to be upset about losing the World Series, because that would mean their team was IN the World Series. But I just can’t get to that place. I can’t be happy just to have been there. I’m sorry. I realize it probably comes off as pouty and spoiled.
I’m not saying the season was a failure. I’m just saying it hurts, I mean really bludgeons the soul to lose the World Series. Getting swept out of the World Series? Feels like The World’s Strongest Man’s fist grabbed my heart muscle and squeezed it until there was just dry flesh.
I just talked to someone who was at Game 4. He stayed for at least 20 minutes after the game to witness the trophy presentation. It never happened on the field. The weather had worsened, so apparently the presentation was made in the visitor’s clubhouse. He said he was disappointed. Disappointed??? I’d have bloody well been relieved! Not sure I could handle seeing the symbol of the championship paraded about by the Giants, with Romo photobombing every five seconds. Not sure I could handle it at all. I guess pouty and spoiled is fairly accurate after all.
I was pretty sullen that next day, as once again I had World Series tickets to a game that wasn’t played. I feel accursed in a very special way. Someone brought me my favorite Thai food, so I could comfort myself by binging, but the rest of the day was a giant sinkhole of suck. As people at work “consoled” me, I spouted phrases like “there are real tragedies in the world” to make it sound like I wasn’t being such a first class crybaby over the whole thing. I had to talk to clients on the phone with feigned patience and goodwill, when I just wanted to crawl into bed and lie wretched and sleepless with the covers pulled over my head.
I would like to admit that I am an absolute rube. Not for a single moment did I believe the Tigers would get swept. Not even when they went down 3-0. Nope. DID. NOT. BELIEVE. IT. Neither my heart nor mind allowed even a speck of doubt. So, when the 27th out was recorded in game 4, I stood there rather numbly, not quite knowing what to do. I didn’t cry this time (yes, I sat there with tears streaming down my face in 2006, sigh), but I had to choke back “feelings” a couple times.
I watched the Sergio Romo interview and then clicked off the television. I couldn’t go to sleep, of course, but there was no more watching of the Giants revelry. People on twitter were saying goodbye to the season, and sometimes each other, and talking about next year. Those farewells made me want to sob my guts out. This game. When you love it, it consumes you. Now all we can do is sit by the window and wait for Spring.