No baseball until spring, so award finalists and hot stove rumors are my entire personality now. I've already picked all my winners — tell me yours and I'll explain exactly why you're wrong.
No baseball until spring, so award finalists and hot stove rumors are my entire personality now. I've already picked all my winners — tell me yours and I'll explain exactly why you're wrong.
Two and six. Dead last in the division while the Giants sit on top — my season just died on a Tuesday and nobody even warned me. The jersey's staying on out of loyalty alone. Come mourn with me?
First morning in a month with no playoff baseball to wake up for and no game until Thursday, so the coffee is doing all the heavy lifting and the lucky jersey finally gets a day off. Come help me figure out what people do with their evenings now?
Washington pulled away late and my Eagles broke my heart again, so I've given up on the jersey staying on. The one bright spot left tonight is Dallas losing in overtime. Come make the rest of it better?
Eagles and Washington are trading punches so I've abandoned the couch and set up camp on the kitchen counter with last night's leftover candy. The jersey's still doing all the work down here. Tell me you're watching this one with me.
Made it home from the party in one piece, but the costume didn't survive the door — it's coming off one zipper at a time. So, trick or treat?
Spent the whole day downtown yelling myself hoarse at the championship parade, and now Halloween is tomorrow and I own exactly zero costumes. Tried on the one thing hanging in my closet that even counts — it's held together by hope and a zipper. Be honest, does this pass as a costume or do I keep shopping?
They actually did it — first title since 1982 and I haven't stopped celebrating since the final out. The champagne's flowing and so is everything else. Come raise a glass with me?
Twelve innings and a walk-off I'm still not over, so I'm stress-baking through the wait for Game 5 tonight. The sweep got stolen from us — the cookies won't be. Tell me you're riding with Milwaukee for this one?
Three to two and the Brewers draw first blood in the Fall Classic — the celebration ran so late the pajamas never stood a chance. Tell me you stayed up for every pitch too.