How I Spent The Last Two Months Of My Summer Vacation, By Cymber (A Diamondbacks-aholic)

I do not believe when Oscar recited his vows and said the words "for better or worse" that he actually said them with baseball season in mind. I imagine that he assumed that since he was the big baseball fan and he never paid particular attention to any one team, or that team's stats, or any one player, or any one player's stats, that his wife, who to the best of his knowledge didn't know the difference between a curve ball and a slider, would not pay much mind to the drama that makes up the playoff season. How very short-sighted of him.

I may not have been a baseball fan when Oscar and I were dating, but I have always had the seeds of a die-hard sports fanatic within me. They were just waiting for the right opportunity to bloom, and after a decade of watching Oscar play baseball, and after getting a big-league team in my own backyard, and after holding my breath while Luis Gonzalez popped a blooper into shallow center field to score the winning run in Game 7 of the World Series, you could say that Spring had sprung.

Still, my interest in baseball has, until this point, been tempered by the reality of a ball club that has struggled some since that storybook season in 2001. I still followed my team's progress throughout the seasons, and maintained a favorite player. But because we were losing more than we were winning, I wasn't overly invested. In other words, I maintained some perspective.

And then this season happened.

Starting toward the end of August, I noticed that our play had substantially improved from the point of the All Star Break and we were sitting on the top of our division. I started following the games a little more closely and keeping track of how the other teams in our division were playing. By mid-September, I was watching every game they broadcast and was calling the players by the nicknames Mark Grace and Daron Sutton were giving them during their broadcasts. By the end of September, I was completely hooked and was talking like full-on sports analyst for ESPN. And then my team won the division. We were in the post season. And poor Oscar started mourning the loss of his once-sane wife.

I had completed my transformation into "THAT person." The one whose mood hinges on the outcome of a game. The one whose schedule is dictated by whether or not her team is playing that day. The one whose sanity is often called into question because she persists in believing that what she is wearing that day can affect the outcome of the game that night. The one whose dreams start featuring baseball players in starring roles. That one.

When things were going well, as they did in the National League Division Series against the Cubs, my mood was euphoric. When things were not going well, as they did not in the National League Championship Series against the Rockies, my mood was sullen and dejected. The only thing I could tell Oscar last Friday night, after watching my boys lose by walking in a run and then being unable to produce ANYTHING REMOTELY RESEMBLING AN OFFENSE at the bottom of the 11th inning was, "Well, it's probably good for you that they lost, because now I have no expectations other than 'we will be swept' so losing a game will not cause me near the same amount of depression from here on out." He seemed unconvinced.

And yet, that's pretty much how it went. We lost two more, including the series-ending game last night, and while I can't say I was thrilled, I was able to put it behind me much more quickly. At least now, I know the outcome. And I can start looking forward to next season.

If I had any sort of money right now, I'd be putting it down on a season ticket deposit. Instead, I am beginning the slow process of reclaiming my life. When I looked around today, I realized that my house had somehow fallen to ruin in the last couple of months. Summer decorations had yet to be replaced by fall decorations. I can't remember the last time the vacuuming had been done. Dishes were languishing in the sink. Garbage bins were overflowing. It wasn't pretty. I vowed that today would be a new beginning. I could finally put that pesky baseball business behind me and get a fresh start. I have several months before Spring Training. I was going to start today in making good use of them.

It was a good plan. Too bad I ditched it in favor of reading all the post-game analysis and cyber-stalking starting pitcher Doug Davis. Maybe Oscar should rethink those vows, after all.