First week of April
You wake up before your alarm goes off, fresh and ready to face a new day. You drink your coffee from your Cincinnati Reds mug while driving to work and listening to the news about the team's chances for the new year. Life is good. You enter the office with a smile and keep checking the clock, because you know in the evening you get to watch a Reds game. As the day progresses, you check the beat writers' blogs to see if the lineup has been posted. Once, twice, three times, there it is! You growl a bit about a few of the players and their positions in the batting order, but you shrug it off because it might not matter much. You hurry up and eat dinner when you get home so you can flip on the game, and you'll even sit through the obnoxious pre-game ravings of Jim Day just to see something related to the Reds.
Last week of July
You wake up begrudgingly as the alarm clock goes off, stumble out of bed, drink your coffee from your Reds mug, go to work listening to a CD, and feel anxious all day about the impending trade deadline. What good players are we going to lose? What crap players are we going to get in return? How many prospects will we swap for some aging veteran hasbeens? You check website after website throughout the day, read all the rumors, fill yourself with doom and gloom. You see the lineup and want to scream, and for a moment, the thought crosses your mind to write a letter to the manager to tell him how to fill out a lineup card. You still go home and watch the team play, but you find yourself yelling at the television more often than a completely sane person should.
Any day in September
You hit snooze about five times, don't care if you're late for work, drink your coffee out of a university of something or other mug, and if you think about baseball at all, it's about other teams because yours is always out. As long as the Chub$ don't win the World Series, who cares who's in it?