Dear anyone who can’t understand why I’m so nuts about sports:

This is why.

This is why you pick a team and follow their every move. This is why you live and die with all of their successes and failures, why you make their foibles yours, why you say “we” and “our.” This is why you endure heartbreak that seems like it can never be topped. This is why you put yourself out there, again and again, daring to take the results of a game personally.

This is why you’re a fan, because sometimes, Landon Donovan pops up in injury time, with the USA out of the World Cup, to score a goal to send them on to the next round.

You become a fan because sometimes, every so often, something happens that sends you hopping around the room, delirious with joy, screaming words that have never before existed in any language, hugging anyone you can reach, running, running, just running to express your joy.

Real life, sadly, has few opportunities for this. But sports – if you’re willing to put yourself out there, sometimes, this happens.

What a game. What an epic, epic game. What joy. What heartbreak and then, what joy.