Pessimism reigns supreme
when you’ve gone an entire decade
without once making the playoffs,
when you’re coasting on a World Series title
old enough to have a driver’s license.

Pessimism reigns
when your inept front office
fails to sign free agent after free agent,
when you announce a rebuild,
a few years of suffering for a supposedly glorious future.

You greet the alleged rebuild
with skepticism and mockery.
You worry they didn’t amass enough prospects,
and that half of them won’t pan out anyway.

But then out of nowhere,
after seemingly endless futility,
they sign several top free agents one winter:
starting pitchers, a catcher, relievers,

big bats, a competent right fielder,
coveted players in demand.
Pessimism still reigns
but suddenly there’s excitement.

The off-season festival sells out instantly.
Opening Day tickets get snapped up.
You just hope the momentum is real
and it all ultimately amounts to something.