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And then we were caught up in the game as the Dodgers loaded the bases miraculously. For the last three innings, they actually did everything right and looked like a real team that knew what they were doing.
Josh and I sat on the edge of the couch, both of us tense, wondering if they could actually pull it off, then argued about which pitcher they should bring in to clinch the win.
Through the TV, they must have listened to me and brought in my suggestion, Josh giving me a look like he was impressed.
"Nicely done there, bro," he said.
"Bro? You know, you could call me Jess."
"Nah. I prefer bro."
Oh, dear Lord. We turned our attention back to the game because we were one strike away from winning this thing. Unbelievable.
I held my breath. Please don't blow it. Please.
"Steeee-rike!" the ump called.
Josh and I both jumped up, knocking over the bowl of popcorn.
"Holy shit!" Josh shouted. "We did it!"
I laughed as he did a goofy sort of dance around the living room, Magic alternating between eating the spilled popcorn and running around. Josh rushed over, his hand up, and high-fived me very enthusiastically to the point of pain.
As I grimaced, he stared at me, suddenly serious. "You know what this means?" he said.
Shaking out my hand, I stared back, concerned about what he was going to say. "No. What does it mean?"
"Well, now we have to watch every game together. Here." He gestured towards the coffee table and popcorn remains. "Just like this."
Oh, crap. He was totally right.
