World Series

I always get sad the day after the World Series ends. More so in New York, because it only means five months of weather-related misery and seasonal depression.

However, there is some relief associated with it, as well. Baseball, when you think about it, is a hard sport to follow. In basketball, it's rare that teams play consecutive games. In football, there's only a once-a-week time commitment. Hockey doesn't exist anymore, so that's out, too. But baseball is like a brother - always there.

Six games per week. It's a legitimate part-time job. Eighteen hours a week. No other sport teaches about the ebbs and flows of life better than baseball. The team with the best record in baseball - the 1906 Cubs - still only won 76% of their games. That's a C in any school.

Baseball teaches you that, every now and then, you're going to lose. And even if you're terrible, every now and then, you're going to win. You're going to win games you have no business winning, and you're going to lose games you have no business losing. In college football, if you lose once, there's a pretty good chance you won't win it all (unless you're USC). In baseball you can't reasonably be expected to win three out of five and it takes everybody to have a good team (compared to the NBA, when you really only need three guys to dominate).

When the weather gets cold, you stay inside and wait for spring. And when Spring Training comes, even though it's still 10 degrees in New York, the hope of warm weather - and the hope of feeling what Phillies' fans are feeling right now - comes with it.

It's like a relationship. And me and baseball? We're on a break. Until Valentine's Day.