No, what I’m thinking about now is the fanbases of those two teams. The people who aren’t reading this because they’re either hung over or still asleep. Or young children on buses headed to school. The fans of the A’s and O’s don’t give a shit if I enjoyed their teams success or if I think it’s a random fluke of variation. They lived and died with their teams for days and weeks and months. They had the game on in the background during dinner and screamed at their television and argued about the fourth outfielder with their neighbor. They hung on every pitched and hugged their friends and families when it was all over. I root for the Mariners, so maybe I’ll a little too romantic over the rarity of a successful baseball season, but I ran through the streets of San Francisco with Giants fans in 2010, and no one was talking about Pythagorean expectation that I could hear. There was just a lot of smiling and yelling and enjoying life.
I hope they ran in the streets of Baltimore and Oakland last night. I hope they high-fived strangers and drank cheap champagne from the bottle. I hope they sang loudly and cheered pure, saluting their teams and the happiness that had been wrought, and the sport of baseball encompassing all of it.