It Was the Best of Times. . .

It's a really good thing that the San Francisco Giants have given me something to root for over the past few months, because I'm not sure I would stayed afloat without the pleasant distraction of baseball. I finally realized this summer that the everydayness of the sport is the source of its greatest charm. I would come home exhausted or demoralized and fire up MLB.com to watch a game as a kind of therapy.

Now, on the night of the greatest Giants victory since 2002, I am more grateful than ever for the solace they've provided. The last couple weeks have been extraordinarily difficult for me, not only because of my parents' move out here but because of other personal problems that I have yet to figure out a way of writing about. I suppose it's fitting, then, that on the first truly successful day my parents have had since their arrival, those other troubles are mounting. I need to sleep, to let myself recover, but instead I'm just pacing over the same simple thoughts in my head until my mind is worn smooth. But at least I have the Giants to provide a means of occupying myself apart from that unhealthy fixation.