“What a fun season!” I thought last night as my head hit the pillow.
I felt satisfied despite the end of the Braves’ playoff run. But that hasn’t always been my approach to sports fandom.
Ramón and I used to have Falcons’ season tickets. I’d look forward to going to the games and, on Sundays, I’d wake up excited to head downtown. I’d cheer loudly for first downs and defensive stops, then go wild for touchdowns. I enjoyed the sense of community.
However, the outcome of the game ultimately dictated whether any of it felt “worth it” to me. If the Falcons lost, it was though I’d hopped in a time machine and erased the days, hours, and moments of joy I'd experienced. I knew my earlier laughs and cheers hadn’t actually been undone, but it felt like it. I had a very “What was the point?” mentality.
I turned something fun into something very unfun. I could express my regret over those moody Sundays, but alas. They're in the past.
What matters more is how far I've come.
I watched the Braves last night from a place of joy, knowing any outcome would be okay. I hoped for a victory, of course, but I still fell asleep happy.
I can appreciate the amazing season the Braves had despite falling short of the desired outcome. Because there were so many mini outcomes I celebrated throughout the season.
Way to go, Braves! Thanks for giving this lifelong fan an amazing season.
