It was such a great game that it's almost hard to feel sad about the way it ended. Even the last play was memorable and will probably go down as one of the most exciting finishes ever. That isn't much consolation, though, and I do feel sad.

This is the kind of game that makes baseball so great, and yet your team has to win more of these than it loses, or else the heartbreak becomes unbearable. I'm lucky that my team does win most of its close games; the Giants had the best record in the major leagues this year in games decided by one run. I'm not so lucky that in the biggest game of the year, it was the other team that ended up on top.

Nothing anyone could say was helpful today. I wasn't hearing it, and I knew more about both the game and how I felt about it than anyone else could. If I let someone try to console me, it was out of politeness. Nice try, no dice.

But one day of self-indulgent wallowing is enough. I spent the whole afternoon doing absolutely nothing. I couldn't watch another game, and I didn't try to put any energy or concentration into anything else. After today, it's back to reality. It was fun while it lasted, but it's not life (as more than one person reminded me).

There are many other things that I care about, and most of them aren't as fickle as the fortunes of a baseball team over a long season and a too-short postseason. I get a lot of pleasure out of watching my team play, but only one playoff team wins its final game. This year, like last year, it'll be somebody else. By that time, two or three weeks from now, I'll have moved on.