I know baseball is somewhere still in my heart.
I had been listening to the Reds game on the radio and got home to watch the Reds bat in the 12th. When they didn't score, I moved into another room, but I could still hear the television.
Suddenly, there was a loud roar coming from the other room, and this typically stuffy August day couldn't stop the goosebumps, even if I knew it was for the other team.
The Rockies won the game on a homer, and even though my team lost, I felt that excitement that comes with a walkoff homer, and something stirred inside me. It's so hard these days.
But OH GOD NO is what I said when I heard Pedro Cueto had left with an injury. And five errors? Why does a stupid game break my heart so?
OH GOD NO.