The Boston Red Sox won the World Series!

And I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

I didn’t play shortstop or right field. I didn’t manage. I didn’t help decide who should be on the team. I didn’t even sell beer at Fenway Park to help pay for it all.

I did NOTHING to contribute to this monumental season. But it sure was fun.

“Life’s a journey, not a destination.” That’s a phrase I don’t really believe in or live by. Sounds kind of lame, to be honest.

But in the case of being a baseball fan, the journey is all we really have.

Jerry Seinfeld said it best…what are we really rooting for, anyway? The players want to win, sure. But really, they want to make the most money. The teams are owned by billionaires. When we root for our team, are we just rooting for the clothes?

Why rush home for work in time for first pitch, on a Tuesday in April against Baltimore? Why turn the radio to WEEI as soon as I get in the car? Why fly to Florida for spring training games, or Boston for the regular season? Why do I care if Chris Sale gets his 12th strikeout in an inconsequential game in June? Why do I agonize over pitching changes, second guess contract renewals, scrutinize the lefty/righty matchups, and study the payroll after every roster move?

These moves don’t really matter, these guys don’t really care about me, and I have no impact on the game.

And yet…just as I’m fully coming to terms with all of that, I’ve never been a bigger baseball fan.

It’s simultaneously relaxing and riveting. There’s nothing better than a warm summer day with baseball on the radio, the perfect backdrop for relaxing by the pool. Fast forward a couple of months, and you’re glued to the screen, studying every sign from the catcher before every pitch.

Some nights you see every pitch, some nights you miss a whole game. But baseball is there for you the next day, either way.

Maybe it’s the storylines. There’s always somebody playing better than they should, or worse. There’s team drama. Somebody’s hurt. Somebody said something stupid.

Maybe it’s the length of the season? February thru October, almost all of the best parts of the year.

Maybe it’s the shared language you have with other fans, the inside jokes, the latest news tweets from a favorite writer.

Maybe it’s just pure fun. Go out to the ballpark on a warm summer night, drink some beers, watch some guys play a great game.

I don’t know.

Sure, winning the World Series was fun. But it was just another game in a long, fun season.

Pitchers & Catchers report in 114 days. I can’t wait.