Let the insanity begin...

    Last night I did something very unlike me. I left the game early. Even though we already had the wild card, and essentially all of our starters were no where to be found, I figured, its still Fenway, it’s not raining and Wake and Halladay are pitching.  Still could be a great one to watch.
    By about the sixth inning the stands were relatively clear, Wake was gone, and we pretty much didn’t have a shot in hell of making it back, between our lack of bats and Lowrie’s week throw on third.
    The man sitting beside my said, “this is probably the worst game of baseball I have ever seen.”
    “Yeah, and yet we’re laughing.”
    This is when he said something I truly couldn’t believe.
    “Yeah, but how can you not be happy in Fenway?”
    I envied his light heartedness.  I thought about the times I’ve cried in the ballpark, the times I’ve lost it. And I thought about how the fact that I laughed last night and was able to leave in the 8th. The pre-World Series me would have stayed, watched them lose, blamed it on the fact that I can’t find lucky hat.
    Insanity is gone for baseball. I was looking ahead last night, as was Francona. I wasn’t going to stick around to watch Halladay dominate the minors when hockey starts today. I wasn’t going to waste my tears on Wake yet, because it comes back.
    Every year playoffs hit, and the insanity is back like a plague. I can’t laugh at errors. I can’t laugh at relief I haven’t heard of. In fact, for playoffs I’m lucky when I’m breathing.