Dear baseball: I've loved you as you calmed my weekends and passed another Pleasant Valley Saturday in peace, I've hated you as you've pushed my press deadlines beyond their limits, I've loved you as you've made a newsroom scream, I've hated you as you made my newsroom scream in frustration over what the headline would be if they lost here last Thursday -- which they wouldn't -- which they did. I've loved you at 10 in the morning, gardening in my front yard; I've loved you on my Android phone, through your blip-ridden wireless audio. I've hated you when Brian Wilson made it just a little bit too interesting. I've hated you when it was yet another double play groundout. I've loved you to the point of losing my voice, I've loved you at my wedding day when I danced to Tony Bennett. You tie together years, "the summer they signed VizII," "the sign we made for Matt Cain's 21st birthday." I have never loved you more than now. And they're going crazy ... they're going crazy ... woo hooooooo!!