When you’re in your early 20s and convinced that time goes fast and that you must live in the now or risk losing the future, you forget that a baseball season takes a lifetime. Or, to be less melodramatic, a gestation period at least.
Since the Reds’ season began, I have started dating a girl, won some awards for student journalism, been accepted to graduate school, graduated from college, stopped dating the girl, moved into a new apartment, started writing for The Hardball Times, and met Reds GM Dick Williams. Like full handshake and all.
Yes, this is a humblebrag and I can’t work my way around it, but my point in listing all of this is more to say: I’ve lived a lot in the last six months and the only thing that’s stayed constant is the Reds (non-existent) playoff hopes.