What's that thing that parents do to put their kids to sleep? Put a dab of whiskey under their tongue? Well, someone should have found the nearest bottle of Jack Daniel's about 9 innings ago because this kid is going to have a baseball induced heart attack by 4th grade at this rate. Don't get me wrong, I love his enthusiasm throughout every one of the extra innings and he's clearly a quick study because he already understands that being a sports fan is basically the equivalent of being nothing more than a bipolar ball of nerves. I just don't want him wasting that (what seems like endless) energy getting emotional about a day game in mid-July. The Pirates aren't too too far out of the playoff hunt, and if they somehow sneak their way into the one game wildcard this kid may be on the precipice of full blown mental breakdown before the first pitch. If I have learned anything it's that you can't fully invest your mood mid-season if you have hopes for a long playoff run. If this little guy is this schizophrenic for every one of 162 games he'll be balding by the time they actually matter. I wish that type of prolonged stress on no one, and especially not someone that can't legally drowned it in overpriced domestic beer.
At least this story had a happy ending, but his parents might want to take the magnetic schedule that he lives by off the fridge if they want him to get through high school without developing heart palpitations...