To be fair, that’s the face of a Mets fan during the regular season too.

I have came up with a phrase to describe the malaise I have been feeling since the baseball season ended. You might have heard of SAD, what us health professional types call seasonal affective disorder, a type of depression that, as its name states, is related to the seasons of the year, namely the dark, shorter days of winter. Many people need the UV rays of the sun to produce happy chemicals in our brain. When the days turn shorter, joy vacates the afflicted like leaves fall off trees.

For us, the baseball fanciers, we have a similar illness, one which I have coined Off-season Affective Disorder (OSAD). When baseball season ends, we become sad, our moods turn dark. Since the season ended, I find myself in this abyss where I am forced to confront everyday harsh realities. My favorite mode of escapism, 9 innings of meaningless perfection, is gone. I don’t know why it gets me every year–I mean, I know it’s coming, right?

How to tell if you might be afflicted? Do you find yourself searching Twitter for any snippet of baseball trade rumors? Are you re-watching all your favorite baseball movies? Have you built a shrine to your team with Zim-bear as its centerpiece out of sheer boredom? Are you counting down the days until voluntary spring training reporting day for pitchers and catchers? Are you considering watching alternative inferior sports like football? Do you find yourself in interminable circular arguments about the superiority of cake versus pie? If you’ve replied yes to one or more of these questions, talk to your doctor. Or, rather, don’t. She’ll think you’re crazy, and yeah, she’s probably right. Just self-medicate until February. Pass the rum, please.


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