2014 is dead. Long live 2014.
All of the Best of 2014 posts made me delightfully melancholy. All of the categories were like presents you wrapped yourself. There was no mystery mixed in with the excitement. Best play of the year? Joe Panik's double play. Best hit of the year? Travis Ishikawa. Intergalactic Wonder-Champion of the year? Madison Bumgarner. Everything was spoken for.
There will be a year where it isn't going to be so obvious. Hit of the year? Oh, it's between that one against the Nationals in June and the one against the Padres in September. Best play of the year? Gotta be that catch against the Mets or some crap.
The odds are that 2015 will be that year.
Come back, 2014.
Except, that's exactly the kind of attitude I'm working on with my 6-year-old, the feeling of disappointment after leaving Great America that replaces the feeling of euphoria that should be there because you were just at freaking Great America. Be happy! You'll come back. You'll have good times again. You'll have good times again really soon.
That catch against the Mets or some crap? It's hard to see because we've got the glare of the recent past reflecting off the limitless void of the offseason, but that will be an important, beautiful catch. It'll put you to bed happy and make you smile the next day. We like to joke about 2008 being the absolute worst, but Tim Lincecum won a Cy Young. A portly catcher came up and hit .300 at a young age. There were great catches, there were great hits. Even in that poopy, poopy season, there were cool things.
There are always cool things in baseball. Some years, you just have to look harder for them.
We'll get all the cool things that baseball always brings -- things as simple as Brandon Crawford throwing someone out from deep in the hole -- along with the memories of 2014 whenever things get a little too weird. It's probably the best position for a baseball fan to be in. The fans of the team that wins the World Series in 2015, why, they have no idea yet. They're not going to spend the year acting as smug and punchable as we are right now. That's our job.
So maybe 2015 is for us. There will be baseball, good and bad, over the next 10 months, and for that whole time, there won't be another team that can hoist up the banners the Giants can. They can't sell the t-shirts the Giants can. They won't have the ballpark giveaways the Giants will have. The 2014 season was special, and now we get a year of remembering exactly how at the same time we get more baseball-related goodies. The goodies might not be as numerous as we're used to, but they'll exist. Never forget they exist.
The Giants could also troll the world again next year, you know.
My resolution? To dwell in the past at the same time I'm appreciating the present and anticipating the future. It's a tricky juggling act, but while we're complaining about Casey McGehee trades or Pablo Sandoval defections, it's worth remembering that it's the best juggling act in baseball. Happy New Year, everyone. Happy New Year and go Giants.