sports doesn’t make any sense. you’ve probably heard that jerry seinfeld bit about how we’re secretly rooting for laundry when we watch sports. it’s played out, but it is also captures the essence of why sports fandom makes no sense.

i have no idea who any of the players on the yankees are. i don’t know what aaron judge likes to do on his free time. i have no idea what giancarlo stanton likes to do for fun. i spend my days hoping luke voit doesn’t come out in support of the president.

but i do know that watching gerrit cole makes me feel like i am watching van gogh paint - his version is just a ball. i do know that an aaron judge homerun has the power to help heal me when i am in pain. i do know that every giancarlo stanton at-bat brings me to my feet.

after the year that i have had, all the destruction and ghoulism i have had to watch, i take pleasure in knowing that my favorite team has a chance to bring me my feet and cleanse my heart once again.

let’s fucking go.