depressed as hell.

completely freakin' depressed.

here's a passage (edited to fit within the contexts of this series) from ball four, in an entry dated september 9 (bear in mind, of course, that the book was written in - gasp - 1969):

"The (Marlins) are beautiful.

Here they are...tied with the cubs and the panic is on in Chicago. ... I don't have to be there now to know that their clubhouse is like a morgue. And here's the funny thing: The (Marlins) have the same record and they're going crazy with joy. The players are happy, the manager is happy, the fans are happy. Now what's the difference? It's that the (Marlins) won their games at a different stage of the (series). The point is that right now they both have an equal chance to win the pennant, yet the (Marlins) are up and the Cubs are down. And the Cubs are down because they think they should be down. Why? If they were as happy as the (Marlins) they'd win more games."

I have no gut instinct for tomorrow's game. I'm just sad that it's being played.