Four teams, two sports, and the volatility of belief.

I'm back from Baltimore. And grateful.

I’ve made efforts over time, more and more lately, to think about how and when it was that sports, and baseball above all else, grabbed hold of me early on, only tightening its grip since. One thing I was able to quickly find clarity on, probably half a lifetime ago, was that I’m drawn to sports and its promise of belief — with great reward and, at least by the most zoomed-out measures, relatively little risk. (I don’t gamble.)

It’s a belief that lends itself to being shared, and in this last decade or so I hold onto that more than ever before, as just about everything else leans increasingly into dug-in, divisive paradigms.

We care about our teams, and share that with the people we live with. Who we work with. Who we hang out with in online communities like this one. Who we gather with in ballparks and stadiums and arenas and downtown parades.

It encourages convicted belief in things as silly as guaranteed wins, as lionized as generational prodigies not old enough to have a drink to celebrate Draft Night.

These last couple days made me think about the intersecting through lines of the Texas Rangers and Cooper Flagg.

And the Baltimore Orioles. A lot.

If you choose to blame Tuesday’s first pitch heat index — a very baseball-centric 108 — for where my brain decided to take this, I wouldn’t fault you.

But stay with me, if you will.

This is about belief.