I stood there thunderstruck. I slammed the off button and missed. The TV still glared at me. I fumed and fussed, went to the cleaners, the bank, the gas station, the grocery store and returned home. I noticed the cardinal-topped wicker coaster container was on the floor. Even my 4-month-old Norwegian elkhound had registered her complaint.
But nothing had changed. It was still Wednesday and the Dodgers had lost. Too late my telling Sax not to swing at bad balls; too late my telling Guerrero he was overdue for a big hit; too late my agreeing with Tommy's first instinct--yes, walk Clark! Absurd, my feeling that because I am a 35-year Dodger fan. They had to win this year.
I'm broken-hearted, but I'll get over it. I've already ordered the 1986 schedule and am thinking Blue. I'm also reflecting on the season that was almost perfect. Thank you, Dodgers, for another great year.