Sport's Purgatory: Post-Game Fan Schitzophrenia

Just an amazing day to be a sports fan. Well, kinda. Sorta. Maybe. I'm torn in two directions. I'm stuck between a forked road without a map. The feeling started creeping up at around 3:53 p.m. I tried denying it around 9:25 p.m. Harsh realization began to set in around 1:07 a.m. I am a sports fan. And I have post-game fan schitzophrenia. And this is my story.

The USC-Notre Dame game is my favorite game I hate looking forward to. If that sentence doesn't make sense, just imagine how I really feel. USC's dominance this decade has been nothing short of legendary. And leading the way is Dr. Feel Good, Pete Carroll; shit-eating grin and all. LA's preeminent football team has churned out prospect after prospect from all over the field. (Carroll's actually sent 53 players to the NFL, 14 first-rounders; Carson Palmer, Matt Leinart, Troy Polamalu, Reggie Bush, Lofa Tatupu highlight the list.) The Trojans had an air to them. I hate to use the term, but if it's ever applicable--the USC Trojans have swag. And everyone who watched them could see it the moment their cleats would touch the grass at the Rose Bowl. I love everything about the Trojans...

...and then there's Notre Dame. I grew up on Notre Dame. I love Rudy. I cried the first time I watched it. I cried the last time I watched it. (Hey, it's a touching movie, man. Back off.) As an Irish kid growing up, I must've had a thousand Fighting Irish hats--you gotta rep your heritage. And when Charlie Weis, one-third architect of the Patriots dynasty, signed on to coach his alma-mater I was hooked all over again. So when the two teams collide I'm on the fence more than John Kerry at the Pepsi Challenge. Watching the game unfold is like watching two girls fight over you: you want to step in to lend a hand, but you can't decide which one means more!

From the moment the first ball was hiked at South Bend, I was thrown for a loop. On the one hand, I want USC to stay undefeated and continue their climb towards a third national championship title this decade. But on the other, I want Charlie Weis to keep his job and see Jimmy Clausen carry the Irish to a BSC game.

What's a fan to do in this situation? Hope for a tie? Maybe they will decide both teams tried really really hard, and that everyone is a winner. Is this what New Yorkers think when the Giants play the Jets? Or does the state of New York just secede the victory to the G-Men? (Does anyone know when the Bills are moving to Canadia?)

Which brings me to tonight's ALCS game. Oh my gaaahhdd. What a game, what a game. But yet again, I'm left more confused than after seeing John C. Reilly in the trailer for The Vampire's Assistant--wasn't this guy last playing a retard in Step Brothers? The game was an instant classic, no doubt. But did it have to be the Angels and the Yankees? Did it have to be Boba Fett and Darth Vader? The Beantown bias in me is boiling over as we speak. It's the exact opposite position I was in for the USC-Notre Dame game. I don't know who I want to lose more: the team that beat my team or the team I can't bare to watch win it all.

The baseball purist in me is saying that I should feel fulfilled after watching such a compelling game. I mean, Mariano Rivera going 2 & 1/3 innings is something that should be watched without blinking. Alex Rodriguez exercising his playoff demons after confronting his steroid use at the start of the season is one of the best sports stories this year. All this happening in the inaugeration of New Yankee Stadium. It really should be a memorable postseason.

There's gotta be some cure for this right? How do I get out of sport's equivalent for purgatory. I'm neither happy nor sad. I'm inbetween emotions; a gray area reserved only for the most undecisive decision-makers. Please tell me I'm not the only one! Tell me I'm not alone!