Chad recently wrote an article talking about a lost generation of Reds fans. I am among the lowly who barely remember the Reds last playoff series victory in 1995. I watched that entire sweep, but those memories fade just a little every year.
I grew up on stories of the Big Red Machine. My father, a 1975 high school graduate, comforted my brother and I with tales of the good, ole days. It was a bittersweet consolation prize as I listened to Marty and Joe relay the mediocrity of the teams of my youth. In retrospect, that stretch was less frustrating than the current era of losing.