During the late frames of Sunday's Pirates-Nationals encounter (WAS 6, PIT 5 in 11 innings), one young Pirates fan watched in mute anguish and joy and then anguish again as his beloved Corsairs went down in defeat. Lessons -- hard, lacerating lessons -- were learned and then forgotten, probably ...
As the parent of a baseball-preoccupied six-year-old, I can relate to this. No matter how many times I explain to him that even the best teams lose 60 times a year or so and even the most hapless team can defeat a juggernaut on any given night, a loss suffered by his favorite team yields existential misery, at least for 10 minutes or so.
The other problem is that a six-year-old's menu of favorite teams is prone to grow and to shift like windswept dunes, at least at the margins. So predicting which squad will be the source of wretchedness on any given day is a fool's errand.
You see: Baseball is beautiful, and baseball hurts.