I walked out of the house this morning and had a weird feeling in my stomach I hadn't experienced in a real long time. A legitimate feeling of happiness and accomplishment, which are two feelings I seldom feel on their own let alone together. I was trying to figure out if it was because of the nicer weather or the fact my kids will both finally be out of my hair and in school all day starting next week.
Then I thought about it a second and realized I was so happy because 25 complete strangers won a baseball game in Philadelphia last night, which is WILD to think about. I understand the glow that comes after a regular season football win since every game means sooooooooo much. But a baseball team winning a single game out of 162 pumping a zillion CCs of dopamine into my brain simply doesn't make sense. Don't give me any of this national pastime bullshit either because I didn't feel this way once during last year's fake ass coronaseason. There has be some sort of phenomenon about little wins during a long season associated with it that marathon runners feel after every few steps of a marathon. I wouldn't know since I've run as many marathons as the Braves have wins this season. But some smart ass scientist can probably crack the code after they put the final nail in coronavirus' coffin.
Regardless of the reason, I can't wait to feel this feeling 95 more times this season then God knows how many in the playoffs. #96ers.
Speaking of the 96ers, we have our We Gotta Believe Gala tonight in honor of Uncle Stevie's glorious arrival into our lives to ensure we feel this magical feeling more every single year. Join us on YouTube or Twitter.