The Bay Area Holds Its Collective Breath As the A's Head Home to Clinch

Tuesday morning I found myself arriving at work both excited and downcast. I knew why I was excited: because the anticipation of a playoff game includes an unmistakable blend of "hoprehension"--the mixture that is equal parts "hope" and "apprehension". Why was I subdued? After six months and 162 games of leaning with every pitch trying to will my A's into the playoffs, 10:00am starts were about to force me to miss the unmissable, to "check-in" on the radio what I would normally catch, scrutinize, and lean with, pitch by pitch, with my own eyes. Now the most important game of all was about to start, and I was about to miss the experience, and settle for just catching the results.