World Series

I cannot claim to be the most loyal baseball fan, and in recent years I've developed an aversion to physically attending sporting events. Still, the St. Louis Cardinals are a team that I grew up with, back when growing up with a team actually meant something. I remember the same players from 1982, the year of the last world championship, to about 1990. Nowadays you're lucky if you have any players on your team now that were there two seasons ago.

But all griping aside, I'm thrilled to see the Redbirds bring home another championship. The tenth in team history but only the second in my lifetime (I had just turned 5 last time), it didn't "make me feel like a kid again," as the trite saying goes, but it did result in an adrenaline increase, something I normally don't get as an adult. I found myself cringing when something went poorly and jumping out of my seat when a Tiger pitcher threw a ball into the outfield and the Birds scored. I was unable to get to sleep until 2 hours after each game ended, which sometimes made me late for work the next day. I had convinced myself that I wouldn't tie my emotional state to a bunch of baseball players, but the October run that these guys had temporarily broke through that conviction.

Way to go, guys.