Early in Game 1 of the ALDS against the Mariners, with me stuck at work in an all-hands meeting, I had friends text me about how Verlander was getting rocked. Of course it was out of friendly hate, but I had a weird response that I actually think at the time was honest: that I didn't care, and I was ok if they lost to Seattle. For one, watching the Mariners run to the playoffs was fun - always fun to watch a fanbase that had gone without success for so long experience it. But mostly, because I was kind of OK with the idea of not having nerve-wracking, blood-pressure-raising October and November nights. Too many of these from 2017 to 2021, some special (if some later tarred by scandal), and some awful.
October baseball is a special type of excruciating joy. It isn't the minute to minute heart attacks of say playoff hockey, but the slow burn of watching outs go by, counting them down or up from basically the third inning onwards. Five straight years of dealing with it, including five straight trips to the ALCS, three World Series trips, and one somewhat tarnished World Series title. That's a great return, but also a whole lot of nightly drama to take in one month a year. I was ok with avoiding all of that this year. And then Yordan hit a truly unique walk-off home run, and I forgot about all that and wanted it back.
From there on, going through the ridiculous machinations of the 18-inning game, escaping ten successive innings of potential walk-offs, to the entirety of the Astros confident, efficient sweep of the Yankees (more on that in a bit), I was fully back in on rooting for this team. And it really is a team, more than the 25 players on this years roster, tis franchise. This franchise that has changed 20 of 25 people since 2017 but still got to at least this point each of the last six years. And even if I'm setting myself up for heartbreak, much like 2019 and 2021 (more to come on that in a bit as well), I don't mind it - just a week left of more drama, heartburn and chewing fingernails.
As I sit here two days before the start of the 2022 World Series, I am fully at peace knowing I will for a week not be at peace. Especially the way this started, with teh Astros going 7-0 heading into the World Series. The Astros are easily the favorites, having a far better regular season, an undefeated start to the playoffs, and a deep, deep pitching staff that should shut down any team. But then again, the warning signs are all over.
Some are more ephemeral - the similarity of having to face another NL East Team that had a ridiculous second half run after a slow start, basically the same recipe that the Nationals and Braves had entering their prior world series. Some are more legitimate - the fact that the entire Phillies offense has been red hot and their wild bullpen has dropped their walk rate and started locking down games. There are signs.
But what is baseball if there weren't. All playoffs long we heard about how random it has all become, as we saw three 100+ win teams knocked out on the NL side of the bracket. Some blamed the expanded playoffs with two more teams, not realizing that doesn't really explain the Dodgers or Braves. Some sighted the extended "bye" for the top seeds, despite three of the four teams winning their game 1 off of their bye. But while all that madness was happening, the Astros plugged along, and calmly ripped out the Yankees.
In retrospect, the Astros were much better than the Yankees, but for sure I spent a bit of time worrying about things. Unlike 2019, the Astros played well in Game 1, and much like 2017, they won the first two games in tight, well played games. The biggest drama being Framber Valdez's double-error, and Aaron Judge blaming the roof for being open. But then I remembered 2017, when the Astros turned those two close wins in Houston into three awful, soulless, haunted losses in New York. That was my intro to the AL in a way. This year was my intro into accepting that for all the Astros faults, and even if we do lose a third World Series - we owned the Yankees.
We can do that, but that doesn't mean we will win this world series. But it doesn't matter. It's about these runs. It's about being a fan of the Patriots of the MLB (another World Series Title would help in that comparison, for sure), being a fan of a team that makes four World Series in six years. Sure, I can complain about the heartache and heartbreak. I can complain about the ruined October nights, but I need to learn to love those October nights, love those quiet innings, those 30 seconds in between pitches, when the mind races to all the outcomes. There should be enjoyment in the pain, the process, the waiting.
At this point, I don't really know what I'm saying, though that is generally a decent reflection of the inner thoughts of a baseball fan whose team is playing deep into October. There are a lot of unknowns, a lot of worries, a lot of potential. I'm ready to get my heart broken again, but more than ready to remember the memories of this 7-0 run, and the ALCS wins in 2019 and 2020, or the comeback to force Game 7 in 2020. This can be a culmination, or a continuation, but what happened should be enjoyed nonetheless.
