Onions, Inches and Fighting the Long Defeat

I am a Guardians Season Ticket Holder, but in my 10-12 games a year, I always take 1-2 of our kids (ages 7, 6, almost 4, and 2). So, today was different. I got a scorecard because keeping score controls my emotions and competitive anxiety. I sat down and started talking to the older gentleman on my left who tolerated my various insights into the game very kindly.

On my right, I allowed a White Sox fan to sit in my assigned seat so he could sit next to his friends. White Sox fan person (a "boss" of some sort) was not profane or abusive. But, he very clearly had only started paying attention the past two weeks, at most. Yet, there he was, standing and screaming in joy as the team I live and die with daily failed to secure a crucial victory. His joy did not appear to be any less than mine would have been despite my significantly superior emotional investment. So… why am I bothering?

At some level, it has to be that I get joy from this. Seeing Anthony Kay spike a throw and allow two runs was joyous. 11 strikeouts from Gavin Williams was a thrill of hope for a weary world to rejoice in. Jo Adell gave me an electric moment where I thought he had deposited one in the bleachers. I do truly revel in the feelings these events produce.