It’s July.
I’m nervously excited. And unexcitedly nervous.
It kinda sucks to be a diehard fan.
I mean, not really. But admit it: the deck often feels stacked. The grass seems to always be yellowing, if not balding, where you are. Sports.
The Texas Rangers are a playoff team right now, even though every single unit of the team has had its problems. They’ve spent much of the season not hitting at home, and all of it not taking extra bases. Their best hitters have been bad. The hard-hit numbers, by virtue of all the balls hit straight up or straight down, dwarf the barrels. The pitching staff doesn’t hold runners. The defense has had trouble catching up to and catching baseballs, and neither the outfielders nor the two catchers making significant money throw. The rotation has first-inning issues. The bullpen, a sizable bet to begin with, is overworked. They don’t beat bad teams. The roster is old, and thin. I can’t remember this or any other team playing more often with a two-man-plus-a-catcher bench, constantly managing “day-to-day” injuries to active players that stretch into three days, four, five, without an injured list stay.
On the other hand, the ridiculous American League means Texas has done enough — despite going more than two months without a winning record until last week — to hold down a Wild Card spot.
And here’s the thing about how frustrating this season has been, not to mention every one of the last 10 seasons with one (glorious) exception: while it unquestionably could be going better, it could be worse.
Would I rather live and die with Milwaukee or San Diego or Toronto, each good all these years but never landing the title — the Blue Jays, blowing things last year in the ninth innings of Game 6 and Game 7 and failing to bring home their first World Series win in 32 years, and the Brewers and Padres, who in their 56 and 57 seasons have never won one? Or with the Mariners, a popular pick to win this year’s AL pennant after squandering it in the seventh inning of the ALCS Game 7 in 2025 — and who have never even been to the World Series?
Or do I prefer this?
I could probably rationalize any of it, but ultimately I know where I land. It’s the grass I stand on now. I’m really comfortable having that championship in the bag and not the perpetual angst, and not just because I’m drawn to the build and the solution chase. It’s also because I remember the shoe being on the other foot.
Think Seattle and San Diego fans envy Texas? I damn sure felt that way about the Marlins and their pop-up championships when my team was still without one to its name.
I do wonder what it’s like to be a fan of the Mets or Phillies, two of the four biggest spenders in the sport but with one championship between them since the 1980s. The Yankees, with one in the last 25 years. The Dodgers, who before the last two years, had only the asterisked 2020 title since the ’80s themselves.
Would it be better to be a fan of this generation of the Brewers or the pre-2024 Dodgers, whose regular seasons are just prep work for October but without much of the ultimate ROI? The Angels or Rockies, sellers every July and not very good at it?
Or sitting where the Rangers are, unsure day to day, series to series, of what they are? Flashes of being too competitive to dismiss, but too inconsistent to trust. And yet bearing in on an inflection point at which uncertainty doesn’t work. When the can can’t be kicked any longer.
If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t hate the conundrum. The crossroads. The chaos. The absence of clarity.
It’s kinda compelling. Never boring. Last year, in the final 10 days leading up to the trade deadline, I sent out 16 different standalone TROT COFFEY posts. Not knowing today what direction those might take these next few weeks is, I will admit, pretty great sports drama.
But again, that doesn’t mean this hasn’t been a really trying season to be a Rangers fan. They’ve been really good and really bad.
Still, now it’s July. The time when you have to get over your identity crisis.
