My World Serious Secret

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It has been a hard year, and it’s about to get harder.

I am not talking about the election, or the drastic spike in COVID-19 cases. I am talking about something that might shake the foundations of many of us.

The way 2020 is going, the Dodgers might win the World Series.

Usually I try to write about things that are a bit more serious, like the collective mental health of our country, or how the stress of 2020 – COVID in particular – has increased alcohol and drug abuse.

And I still may.

But this is personal. As a lifelong Giants fan, it would make sense that the Dodgers would win this year, as they go up against the Tampa Bay Rays, but the only consolation we can take is that it is an asterisked season.

But I have a deeper problem brewing, one that I don’t talk about to many people.

I like Clayton Kershaw.

I don’t know where it came from or how it happened. He has a scruffy beard I find annoying, and a fastball that I find even more annoying. I took such deep joy when his nemesis, former Giants ace Madison Bumgarner, would smack a home run off of him. MadBum was the pitcher, for God’s sake.

But when he wasn’t pitching against the Giants, I harbored a deep appreciation for Kershaw.

He’s a good ballplayer. He has a good attitude. He’s a genuinely nice guy. In the offseason he and his wife wrote a book to raise funds to build an orphanage in Zambia. He’s been honored with the Roberto Clemente Award and the Branch Rickey Award for his humanitarian work.

He pulls for his teammates, present and former, as evidenced when he sent well wishes to his former partner in crime Zack Greinke, who suffers from severe anxiety and saw his pitching career implode.

If there is anyone, I know I should support, it should be Greinke. After all, I know a little bit about anxiety, and how it can take over your life. And I do support him.

But I just like Clayton Kershaw. He’s won three Cy Young Awards (often at the expense of the Giants). He is the great-nephew of astronomer Clyde Tombaugh, who discovered Pluto. His father was a talented musician. And for what it’s worth, one of his best friends growing up was quarterback Matthew Stafford.

No one can truly understand the human heart, especially one that bleeds orange and black like mine does. And one of my favorite jokes is, “How come Clayton Kershaw can’t answer his phone? It doesn’t have any rings!” We Giants fans can enjoy that as we juggle our three pieces of recent World Series bling.

And I’m fine with keeping it that way. I can secretly like Clayton Kershaw without having him add any jewelry to his collection of MLB hardware.

But since this is 2020, and the whole world is imploding, it just might be the season the Dodgers win the World Series. And we all must be ready for that.

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