For many, autumn means trick-or-treating and going to haunted houses. For others, it represents a dramatic weather change, in which temperatures drop drastically from the 70’s to the 40’s.
However, for me, autumn represents the best months ever from the perspective of a sports fan.
Some think of falling leaves and costumes — I think of gridirons and diamonds.
Let’s break autumn down: we’ve got the National Football League (NFL) in full swing, meaning I get to watch my favorite sports team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, dominate the rest of the league — sometimes.
The playoffs of Major League Baseball (MLB) are essentially happening every night in October, and one day — hopefully — I will get to watch the Kansas City Royals dominate that stage.
On top of that, the National Basketball Association (NBA) starts at the end of October, along with college hoops and the Major League Soccer (MLS) playoffs.
This confluence of everything I live for has spawned an insane amount of memories that are dear to me.
I remember sneaking downstairs to catch late innings during the World Series, when the games stretched far past my bedtime.
I remember nearly flat-lining during Steelers games that went into sudden-death overtime, while every fiber in my body screamed for a defensive stop or a first down.
I remember making absurd bets with friends and rubbing it in their faces if I won.
For baseball, fall is where legends are born — a flash in the pan can be turned into an enduring face of the sport.
An average pitcher can turn out perhaps the greatest game ever pitched on the biggest stage imaginable.
While pitching for the New York Yankees in 1956, Don Larsen became the only pitcher to throw a no-hitter in the World Series.
In fact, he threw a perfect game — he got out every single batter he faced. Twenty-seven up, 27 down.
Larsen would never be remembered by baseball fans had he not thrown a perfect game. He had an unspectacularly average career, similar to thousands of players before and after him.
However, one amazing afternoon cemented his place in the history of baseball.
That’s what is so special about autumn to a sports fan — that at any time, history can be made. We watch sports year-round.
Autumn is when we pay attention.
If you’re looking for me around this time of year, I’ll be in my basement, waking my family up by cheering excessively, or yelling at the TV in fits of rage.
That’s where you’ll find me.