But there's Joe Cowley and his tired, bitter ilk, bitching and moaning about the quality of the game. It wasn't a well played game before the late-inning dramatics, the ratings are still going to be crap, the sport has been fucked by management who don't seem to know what they're doing, football will wash the memories of October 27th away before November even sets in, yadda yadda yadda.
Who the fuck cares? Isn't the point of watching sports to be entertained, to be drawn into things you really have no right to care about? I have little to no reason to actually care about this World Series, other than the fact that I really like baseball, yet I sat in breathless anticipation as the extra innings of Game 6 unfolded. I imagine I experienced exactly what past generations felt when consuming Game 6's from '75 and '86; an overwhelming sense of mirthful disbelief as baseball proves again that anything, truly anything, can happen if you watch it long enough, and I better not go anywhere.
What could possibly be more entertaining than two consecutive innings featuring a team coming back from the brink of a 2-strike count with 2 outs and the season on the line? That someone dropped a fly-ball in the 4th is of no concern when a team refuses to die in the 9th, 10th, and 11th.
Game 7 could suck terribly, a blowout with no inherent drama, and it will do nothing to diminish the magic that I immersed myself in while watching Game 6. Save it for the time capsule, I'll want to see all of that again someday.
God bless this little sport.
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