The game ends. You’re either a hero or a goat, but you’re done. That last out feels like the moment you finally submit your taxes and the screen says "Accepted." Your shoulders drop. You exhale. The world doesn’t seem so heavy.
You walk off the field, and you might have given up four runs, or you might have thrown a perfect game. Either way, you just spent the last few hours doing something incredibly hard in front of a lot of people. You might as well get a Dodger Dog yourself. You’ve earned it.
So tonight, when the announcer says "Pitching for the Dodgers…" and the crowd holds its breath, remember that it’s just a guy trying to get through his workday. And he’s probably thinking about the same thing you do at 3 PM: I could really use a nap.
