It's nuts. When you step back and look at it, sports fans are nuts. We put our heart and soul into a team for months. We immerse ourselves in what-ifs. We bury ourselves in human interest stories around players on the team. We believe we can will our team to a win. We're excited when the team wins. When the team we've been rooting for wins a championship the players get to hoist the trophy. They get rings. They get t-shirts. What do we get? We get the opportunity to buy a $35 t-shirt. Makes no sense right?
But it's games like Wednesday night's that remind you why you are a fan. It's about you and 45,000 of your cohorts screaming at an ump who didn't see that ball that landed 6 feet in front of him as fair, even though you saw it was fair way up where the seagulls live. It's jumping out of your seat, in unison, as an army of 45,000, on every line drive. It's the thought that you, and the 45,000 people around you can will the pitcher on the mound to throw that strike 3. It's about you, 45,000 people at the stadium, and the people in the bars and at home screaming and yelling, pleading for "just a fly ball."
It's about throwing high-fives around to people you've never met, people you'll never meet again. Complete strangers.
It's about not being able to sleep for hours after the game.
It's about getting goosebumps and chills.
It's about walking back and forth down those many ramps and the chants of "Let's Go Giants" and "UUUUUUUU" echoing off the walls. "REEEBAYYYY"
It's about not wanting to go home and wanting to stay in your seat until the next game.
It's why we do this.