The State of my Discontent
I didn’t see the first few innings of yesterday’s debacle. By the time I checked in via MLB At Bat, the Cubs were down 3-1 and a couple minutes later, it was 5-1.
After that, I chose to follow the game on Twitter rather than switch on the tv where I would be forced to witness all the grisly details. Like opting to hear updates from the traffic reporter up in the helicopter rather than joining the EMTs down on the ground at the actual scene of the multi-car accident.
About 90 minutes after the game ended, my fury had passed. I thought that was good. Normally, this early in the season, the embarrassing or gut-wrenching losses stay with me overnight. By September, when the Cubs have historically been eliminated from contention for a post-season spot, I can let go of a defeat in just a few minutes. Between the early-season losses and the late-season losses, there is a gradual decrease in the length of the anger hangover.
In most years, I don’t reach the 90-minute mark until June or July. I must be maturing.
Or maybe this year’s edition of the Cubs really, really stinks.
