It is 1 AM on the morning of September 19th, 2012. I am watching my television inside a stuffy studio apartment, six feet away from a bed that holds my fiancee, asleep and cradling a pillow around her head as if there is a jackhammer singing in the corner of the room. I do not know why I am doing this. Perhaps it is because I want to see what it looks like when Angie Mentink finally falls asleep mid broadcast. Perhaps I just enjoy the sensation of detached disappointment on my skin, like touching a tepid burner left on 3 after the tea has whistled itself away.
At a crossroads, the Mariners lose to Astros, 13-0.
