The one comfort I can find in the, as the Wayward Oriole accurately described as, “unwatchable,” train wreck that is the Orioles, is that I know of at least seven other fans who are as miserable as I am about them. Some, in their high-and-mighty, I-know-everything, self-righteous philosophy might say I should accept what I can’t change. Perhaps stop hoping for a win. Perhaps become a fan of another team. But, I can’t give up on the Os, can I? There are only seven other fans out there. They need me.

The only thing worse than suffering, is suffering alone, so at least I have a small community of virtual people who have no earthly idea I exist, but nonetheless, watch the game with me and resist the temptation to repeatedly stab the television and then set it on fire every night in the 8th inning, however illogical that urge may be. I mean, if something needs setting on fire, it’s a bag of excrement left outside the bullpen, isn’t it.

I think today is the day I start Os Fans Anonymous and Spouses of Os Fans Anonymous. Our behavior is self-destructive and damaging to those who love us. If ever a support group was needed, it’s now.