On Oct. 12, 2012, I experienced what can only be described as the most cataclysmic event in my life — and it was a genuine, indisputable tragedy. I was sitting along the third-base line as my favorite MLB team, the Washington Nationals, were one strike away from defeating the St. Louis Cardinals in a win-or-go-home playoff matchup. 2012 was the first year I paid close attention to baseball, and the Nats had a fantastic season. A new baseball fan, my 8-year-old self was confident that my team being good was the norm. The Nats would always win, right?
I could not have been more wrong. Instead of striking out Daniel Descalso and moving one step closer to the World Series, the Nats had what I can only describe as an unfettered meltdown. They came into the final inning with a 7-5 lead but ended the game with a 9-7 loss. In the blink of an eye, the season was over.
I was heartbroken. I vividly remember openly sobbing in the stadium concourse while my father, grandfather and complete strangers tried to comfort me. It was so bad that an official at the stadium asked if I needed medical attention. But the pain I felt was too deep for a bandage to heal.
Was I overdramatic? Maybe, maybe not. But I lived and breathed Nats baseball and I still do. While I still have to brace myself to rewatch highlights from that fateful October night in 2012, in retrospect, I’m glad my team lost.
That loss and the many that followed taught me the importance of the heartbreak that comes with intense sports fanaticism. Rooting for a sports team is filled with loss, and I was naive to think my team would never lose. However, those losses are crucial — they feed the intense drive to stick with your team until they achieve a moment of immortality through victory.
Winning a championship is hard. Most professional sports leagues across America have around 30 teams, and only one can be crowned champion each year. You need a perfect combination of all the right factors to win: the right owner and general manager who are willing to spend on the team, the right players and a whole lot of luck.
On paper, this kind of dedication seems crazy. Surely no one would subject themselves to years upon years of losing with no end in sight. But losing is an essential experience for any sports fan.
Losses build character and teach us how to bounce back when things do not go our way. However, I think that the heartbreak that comes from being passionate about sports gives us something deeper. It builds a sense of investment in a team and makes its eventual victory that much sweeter.
It probably was not a healthy question for me to ponder, but I remember my 8-year-old self wondering whether I would see a Nats World Series victory in my lifetime. The heartbreak I felt only strengthened my resolve and hope to experience that one moment of glory.
Words cannot describe how happy I was when the Nats finally lifted the World Series Trophy in 2019. While it would have been nice to skip almost a decade of pain and suffering waiting to see it happen, I’m glad I went through the trials and tribulations of losing. By the time the Nats won the World Series, I felt like I was a part of the team. Never mind the fact that I made no actual contribution to the organization, this was my win, too. My years of investment — watching almost all 162 games every season, following our minor league teams, our prospects and reading any piece of Nats-related content — had finally paid off.
In the years since winning the World Series, the Nats have had an unbelievably terrible stretch. I’m not ashamed to admit that when we traded away our generational outfielder Juan Soto in 2022, I, at the age of 18, shed a tear or two. I’ve now endured five straight losing seasons since the Nats brought home the World Series. But with every loss, our hopeful return to glory seems just a little sweeter to me.
I know that investing all my energy into rooting for another Nats championship will inevitably lead me to moments of loss and despair. But it’s all worth it, just for a chance to experience that glorious World Series moment one more time. Call me crazy, but I’m ready to have my heart broken again.
