Don't Go Breaking My Heart

Sigh.  If I were the kind of lady who had trust issues, they would be due to a large number of men, all of them wear baseball pants or football pads.  Although a few of my football pad wearing boys left me crying on Monday, my current issue is with those boys in the tight pants.  My Braves.

First of all, I'm still trying get over life without one Mr. Larry Jones.

I may or may not have just rewatched his last career at bat and cried.  Again.  Sometimes there is crying in baseball.  I mean, I was just getting over us ditching Javier Lopez ten years ago when that guy up there split.  It's been a rough decade for me.

Anyways, I can be quite the shit talker when it comes to my sports teams, but it's been a hot minute since they've backed up my big mouth.  This year though, my boys have been on fire.  Every time I turned around they were on a double digit winning streak.  It was glorious, and slightly unlike us.  But whatever.  Everyday I could see a World Series appearance, and dare I say, win in my future.  And then we played the first game of the NLDS and it kind of looked like this:

Or, using numbers, it looked like this:

Really guys?  Really?  I NEED a World Series.  Need it.  One of my sports teams hasn't been the best at anything since longer than I care to mention.  Once again, you can look that fact up, but keep your comments to yourself. 

Thankfully this is a series.  So, they can go home, sleep on it, win the next three games, and be one step closer to a World Series, AKA pull their shit together.  It's going to happen.  I can feel it.  Why am I so sure?  Because the Braves would wait until the year after my favorite player/the best third baseman ever/my husband left, to win.  It's just the kind of luck myself and the hubs would have.  Oh well, I'll still take it.  So guys, PULL IT TOGETHER.  Do it for me.  Do it for Chipper.  Do it so I don't waste my Christmas money on liquor. I was only eight years old when I got to watch you guys win the World Series.

And I have now reached the age where my memories start at about 15 years old.  It could be because of how old I am, or could be because of those four years I lived off of Rumplemintz.  Who knows?  Just win, okay?  Just do it.

I was really hoping you guys would give me more positive motivation for a post for Fan Friday, but such is life.

Love ya, mean it.