My team lost the world series in an especially agonizing way.
I was rooting for the Texas Rangers, indifferent to their home state’s conservative politics or even the presence of former team owner George Bush in the seats behind home plate.
In that respect, at least for me, sports transcends politics.
But I do associate a loss like this to big elections. If you think this was bad, I tell myself, what will it feel like the morning of November 7, 2012?
When you pick sides in team sports, your emotional experience is vicarious.
Like great literature, this world series (the entire post-season, in fact) had fantastic dramatic elements and was baseball at its best.
My partisanship toward the Rangers was based largely on the fact that the Texas team had never won the title while the Cards were champs five years ago.
But even more than that was my affinity for Ranger manager Ron Washington, a populist team leader with a great heart and overt love for his players.
I demonized his adversary, the aloof Tony La Russa, making him into a consummate technocrat – a man without a soul – who used his players like chess pieces, with the same kind of calculated indifference corporations show when shipping jobs oversees.
Who cares if my characterization was accurate, fair or fabrication? After all, it’s only a game.
For a casual fan like me, it takes a few days to get over a big loss.
(Though with the Rangers coming so excruciatingly close in game six – only to see the dream slip away in the 9th, 10th and 11th innings and then in game 7 – this one might take a little longer).
Though competitive sports has an important role in American history and culture (particularly so in race relations: Jesse Owens, Jackie Robinson, Mohamed Ali) there will be no critical consequence to the outcome of this year’s world series.
But just one year from now is the 2012 presidential election. If we lose that one, my pain and suffering won’t be so easy to manage. And the consequences won’t be vicarious or imaginary.