…that if I weren't so tired, and hadn't imagined like three innings ago that the Care Bears were skipping around the room laughing at me, and hadn't been yelling “SAVE US!” at each new Met batter in a voice more than a bit tinged with hysteria, and hadn't been hiding under the covers during random Padre at-bats, and hadn't been wondering if I could just wake up in the morning in the time for innings 43 and up, that I'd be more disappointed that we lost that one [1]. In fact, in the morning I know I'll be more disappointed. For now, it means I can sleep.
That last shot of Woody Williams awkwardly high-fiving the fan through the screen (a fan who'd just got a full beer from somewhere) did make me smile, however. They must love him in San Diego.
Go get 'em tomorrow. But you know what? Let's play one.