"Watching your favorite team win a championship isn’t the highlight of anyone’s life. We love, we marry, we parent, we achieve, we have all of these experiences with family and friends. These are the things that make up a life.
Your team, though… you share that with everyone. You don’t go through that alone, with your spouse or your kids, with your friends or your business partners. You live that passion in public, in a stadium, with thousands, tens of thousands of others, and your heart goes out on your sleeve and stays there, no matter how badly it gets bruised. Everyone around you, walking around for years—28 of them, say—all of you with a shared history of joy and pain, of almost and not-quite-almost, memories of the great third baseman or the scrappy center fielder, but also of a left-handed reliever gone awry, and the other guys jumping up and down, spiking your ill-placed heart, pain you’d try to forget if only those damned highlights people would let you.
And in a moment, you’re healed. In the time it takes for a reliever—a perfect reliever—to drop to his knees and raise his arms to the sky, it all goes away. There’s no disappointment, there’s no pain, there’s no frustration, there’s just you and 46,000 like you, screaming into the night sky with that reliever, a building full of happy, surrounded by a city of joy, all looking at one thing: baseball."
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