My Team Won the World Series….and Now I Feel Weird

Baseball has been constant presence in my life since the beginning.

For the first 30 years or so, I was solidly a Red Sox fan. In the summer of 1979, my parents took infant me to my first ever baseball game at Fenway Park, my feet clad in tiny red socks. In 1986, after moving to Florida, I watched Calvin Schiraldi blow game six of the World Series (Buckner was but a scapegoat) and the next day at school, my 2nd grade teacher made a show of how I was a bad person for liking the Red Sox. I went to spring training games with my late grandfather, made my way back to Fenway whenever my family visited Massachusetts, and even started watching the Red Sox play the Devil Rays in their horrible dome…thing… when they gave St. Pete a major league franchise.

The night before I was discharged from the Air Force, I watched the Red Sox take game 4 from the Yankees in the ALDS. Baseball and the Red Sox provided spot of brightness during one of the darkest times of my life.

The Move to DC

In 2008 I moved to the Washington DC area and was faced with a dilemma. With my entry level income I could afford either cable for my tiny Arlington apartment or half season tickets to the new ballpark in DC. The Nationals were really a joke at that time; best known for being the team that gave up the home run to Barry Bonds for his still debated and asterisked record. But, it was live baseball, and that was worth it. So, I got season seats. I sat through the 100 loss seasons, the Philly Phan invasions, Elijah Dukes, and the “Natinals”.

There were great moments too, such as Ryan Zimmerman’s opening night walkoff and Strasburg’s debut. I even auditioned for and starred in a Nationals commercial. These spots of joy connected me with Washington DC and made it feel like home.

And it was a lot of fun. Eventually through the Presidents Races, rain delays, and rotating managers, things started to change. Jayson Werth, Stephen Strasburg, Bryce Harper, winning records, and finally the Nats made the playoffs! They also got eliminated in heartbreaking fashion, but the joke team from DC became a national powerhouse.

I was there for every minute. My initial half season had become three seats in section 408. I went to 75+ games a year. Some of the players made it to fewer home games. It was cool to be a Nats fan, and I was the biggest Nats fan I knew.

The Glory Years

My life revolved around the ballpark. I skipped family weddings to attend opening day and planned leave for when the Nats were not in town. If loved ones wanted to see me they checked the Nats schedule before pricing flights. There were first dates at the ballpark and last dates. After all, my Tinder profile prominently featured a picture of me in front of the foul pole. I was on the field for Presidents Races. The Nationals officially recognized my job and I was a representative. My home was festooned with bobbleheads. I made friends with people that worked the ballpark, and even made friends by just sitting in the stands. It was glorious and I loved every minute of it.

The relationship wanes.

Then, things changed. Customer service at the ballpark evaporated. During the early, loss filled years, the Nationals treated season ticket holders like royalty. They knew you were committed and they acknowledged that commitment. When they did nothing but win, the attitude shifted. As the win column filled, prices rose, and perks disappeared. The team shifted from a perfectly functional card system for season plan holders to an annoyingly obtuse app that only served to confuse people when it deigned to fuction. Lines to get in the park grew longer, security got ruder, and going to the park became a pain, not a joy.

A lot of the worst changes occured in the offseason before opening day 2019, but they also came with some shocking news. Bryce Harper, the once a generation phenom went to the hated Phillies. In my opinion, the Nats gave him a shit deal and the Phillies offered commitment. Given all the crappy changes for season plan holders and the general decline in customer service, I felt a solidarity with Bryce. The Nationals didn’t seem to want me, why should I want them?

Old loves and new excitement.

My committment wavered. April and May were filled with blah days at the park and the Nats just kept losing. My best ballpark experience in 2019 at this point was spring training in West Palm Beach. The once fierce drive to get to every game faded. I eventually stopped going. The Nationals’ fortunes seemed to decline as well. So, I took a temporary job transfer to the Boston area and well……cheated. It felt good, too good.

My first week in Boston, I went to back to Fenway. It might be a 100+ year old facility, but going back felt like experiencing baseball at its best for the first time. I had fun again, I got in quickly, people were polite (didn’t expect that), and the experience was exemplary.

Then I did it again. A weekend in Scranton included a Scranton Wilkes-Barre Railriders minor league contest. I didn’t know the first thing about the teams or players involved. But, that did not stop me from enjoying the quality play and the picturesque stadium carved from a rocky hillside. Of course minor league wackiness added to the fun. It was Star Wars night, the home team wore glow in the dark uniforms, and post game fireworks concluded the festivities.

The breakup.

At this point I became the embodiement of baseball polyamory and kept seeking new experiences. I went to Phillies-Nats game in Philly and wore a Phillies Jayson Werth jersey in a bought of confused fandom. Bryce Harper and the Phillies came to Fenway and I wore a Sox cap one night and the same Werth jersey the next. I enjoyed being both a home town rooter and a evil visiting fan….all while carrying a Nats backpack.

While all this was happening, my previous dedication to the Nats just slipped away. I watched a few games on the MLB streaming service, but it didn’t stir any real feeling. I enjoyed my life without constant baseball. My infrequent trysts with new and old ballparks felt good and I suddenly found time to do other things. The old memories of Nats park faded and the recent ones soured. All the money that I so willingly spent in years past for season tickets and playoff seats was a butcher’s bill no longer worth paying. I cancelled my season tickets.

Then, the improbable.

As I flirted with new baseball partners, the Nats started winning. Back home in DC, they turned around a historically bad early season and became a ride or die bunch of goofballs inspired by catchy kiddie music. The #stayinthefight mantra put the Nats on track to a wild card berth, and late in the season, I returned back to DC. Since my season tickets ended with the last regular season game, I could not reserve potential post season seats. Just as well because most of the world, including me predicted yet another playoff heartbreak. My plan was to maybe catch a few games before the season ended and have one last little fling.

Then, the improbable struck and struck hard. I participated in a vintage base ball match and tore my Achilles tendon. I couldn’t walk, my normally independent life changed. Attending a baseball game in person was out of the question in my initial recovery. I just sold or gave away my last few seats for the regular season. My eleven year relationship had truly dwindled.

Without me, the Nats clinched. The wild card game provided a little distraction from surgery recovery and medical paperwork. The Nats won. Cool, a bit more baseball. Now facing the Dodgers, the typical soul crushing Nats exit seemed to be inevitable. I even stopped watching game 5, but they tied it up. I turned the game back on. Howie Kendrick (with a repaired Achilles) wins it with a grand slam. What is happening? St. Louis proved to be a mere speed bump and next thing you know, the Nationals were in the World Series. Throughout the playoffs, friends old and new came by to watch the games with me and check on my healing. Again, baseball brightened up one of my darkest times.

The World Series.

I had to go, for baseball’s sake……

The team I gave up on now stood on the brink of the impossible. In a small way I felt like the albatross that had been holding them back, but the good baseball feels returned. The excitment, the rush, it was all there again. I bought a ticket to game three. It felt like booty calling an ex. What was I doing? Going to Nats Park sucked this year. But it’s the WORLD SERIES, how can you not go?!?!?

I went to game three, the first World Series game in DC since 1924. It was amazing. It was new ballpark energy all over again. Despite a lackluster loss, I had fun and an overall once in a lifetime experience. The Nationals lost the next two home games, and like so many mildly superstitious baseball fans, I felt like I was the curse. Had the booty call gone bad? Were the Nats doomed because I went back to the park?

Nope. The unlikely kept happening. Howie and his patched up Achilles hit another season saving home run. “My team” the Nationals, were world champions.

Now what?

So I stand at a crossroads. It is the most exciting time to root for the Washington Nationals, the best time to be their biggest fan that I know of, but I feel like an imposter. I am no longer formally committed. My eleven years of season tickets, over. My baseball loyalties, confused. Do I kiss and make up to dive back in? Maybe I get another season, likely at a much higher price. Is it now time for me to just be a casual “happy hour” fan, the bane of the DC sports scene? Can I be baseball poly and love the nearby Nats, the ballpark experience Red Sox of my youth, and the Phillies by association equally? Hell, do I just watch hockey?

I don’t know. Right now feels good. The Nationals players are still loads of fun to watch. Howie Kendrick is my recovery inspiration, but the organization he plays for kinda bums me out. Can I love the team, but also loathe the organization? Is that possible? That being said I’m excited for spring training and opening day. I eagerly anticipate walking into the ballpark in Palm Beach. I want to see that 2019 World Series champion pennant flown at Nationals Park, but now I other experiences as well.

Either way, I will still love baseball.