I haven’t listened to Around the Horn or PTI once since it was over. I don’t plan to for a while.

I skipped the letters in the Simmons mailbag about Scioscia and Francona.

I muted the television when McCarver segued from Manny’s departure to the ALDS. “What a game, what a series.” Fuck you.

I’m not watching a second of the ALCS, and if they get through, the World Series.

I muttered an obscenity to some guy on campus wearing their hat – I don’t think he heard.

I still replay the missed suicide squeeze. What a horrible name for a play.

I’ve dreamt twice that the series was still going on, but the Angels end up losing each time.

My heart sinks every single time I think about it.

I suppose you’re wondering why I keep writing about it. It’s like asking me why I keep thinking about it. I’m getting there, one small step at a time. Like I said, it’ll never be where it used to be. But the other day, I thought about renewing my ticket package. Just briefly, but I did.


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