let the games begin
This is supposed to be what October is all about. The intense rivalry. The anticipation of the games. This is when you sit in front of your television on a chilly night, biting your nails and letting your kid stay up way too late on a school night. You keep your own scorecard. Your curse at the tv, you curse at the managers, you pump your fist in the air when things go right.
It's not even the World Series. It's just the ALCS. But it's everything, because the biggest rivalries lie within the league, within the divisions. You spend all season gloating and ribbing and betting and teasing and now, now it means more than just a game, just another W or L in the boxscore.
You engage in what amounts to a staring down contest with the fans of the other team. You are rival gangs ready for a rumble. Crips and Bloods. Davis and Schwarzenegger. DC and Marvel.
This is baseball. This is October. So why do I feel so nauseous?