The Cloths of Heaven

by William Butler Yeats

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths 
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

I'm not ashamed to admit the first place I heard this poem was on the film, Equilibrium, starring the above Sean Bean (spoiler alert: he dies in the first act), Christian Bale, and Taye Diggs.  I imagine that last line sums up how seven fanbases felt right before Ohtani's LAAoA statement:

I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

In sports fandom, we're frequently brought to the precipice of ecstasy--or, if not *quite* such a dramatic state, something neighboring genuine joy--only to have our dreams crushed by the endlessly turning wheel of competition.  Someone, somewhere on the other side of the ball, is always trying to ruin our day--it's the nature of competitive sports, which are themselves nothing but a thinly-veiled metaphor for the ongoing struggle of life.  But the anticipation, the pursuit of a dream--even one as ephemeral as a 23 year old super prospect who set the baseball world ablaze for two full months--is a significant part of why we follow sports.

The execution of excellence--watching King Felix dominate for a decade, or watching Edgar casually swat fly balls over the fence to the opposite field--is different from the dreamy haze we spend most of our fandom in, where we theorize if-->then roster scenarios instead of counting sheep to fall asleep at night.  We, as fans, often find ourselves mumbling semi-coherently about on-base percentages, or we hear ourselves absently questioning the value of advanced metrics, or sometimes we even repeat ad nauseum some of the greatest calls we've ever heard from our favorite broadcasters (mumble-something-something-RYE-BREAD-AND-MUSTARD-GRANDMA!). 

That measure of conscious and subconscious engagement, which has absolutely nothing to do with the execution of the sport itself, is what separates baseball from every other sport on Earth.  And the 'if-->then' scenarios had truly run amok in our collective minds of late, as every fanbase in baseball considered what adding a single player would do to their favored teams' fortunes.  Alas, in such a fevered pursuit, there will be 29 disappointed fandoms, and this time around we are one of those 29.

After a nail-biting and dramatic courtship process involving nearly every team in baseball, Shohei Ohtani is an Angel.  Honestly, I wish him no ill.  He found a fit and pursued it, just as I hoped he would, and life has taught me that we rarely ever get to do what we actually WANT.  Shohei Ohtani had the chance to decide where he would spend the next few years, plying and honing his craft in pursuit of the most coveted of titles: Greatest of All Time.  I'm glad he was able to exercise as much control over his own fate as possible, and that he gets to do the thing he loves most in a place of his choosing. 

Most of the time (and here I'm paraphrasing an episode of Deadwood), life is just one vile task after another.  But we do those tasks because they're necessary to give us those few precious moments we cherish.  I think, at least to some degree, that's another part of why we vicariously enjoy pro sports so much--these guys get to play a GAME and earn mega bucks in the process.  We're envious to a degree, but mostly we're glad for them and we just want to share a teeny, tiny slice of their success.  Hit a game-winning double in a crucial playoff game and you'll never have to pay for another meal in the tri-state area.  Throw a perfect game for the hometowwners and your money will be no good at any local marketplace.

Following the M's, and interacting with y'all, has been one of the consistently joyous endeavors of my life.  Their failure to land Ohtani doesn't do anything to specifically diminish that; sometimes a thing is just not meant to be.  My fandom has certainly dwindled over the past decade of the M's seeming insistence on remaining *just* below the truly competitive threshold, but my interactions with y'all have never failed to provide me with teeny, tiny slices of joy and camaraderie.  I can only hope I've reciprocated.

All of that said...and I really do hate to say this...I think I'm going to pay significant attention to the Angels this year.  Go ahead and clap me in irons if you must (I've already washed my neck in preparation for the inevitable chop), but I was interested in Ohtani The Baseball Player, not Ohtani The Prospective Mariner.  I haven't felt that way about a player in a long time (Felix' early career is probably the last time I felt invigorated about following a baseball player's career--and, truth be told, my love of the M's probably evaporates when his career is over).

I'll even take it further: I wish Ohtani success, even--or perhaps especially--when he plays the Mariners.  What I wanted most was a front-row seat to the Ohtani Show, which means that if I want to enjoy his successes then a goodly portion of them need to come while my attention is on baseball.  Most of the time, that means the M's are involved.  So that means that, when he plays the M's, I'm now going to be pulling for him AS MUCH AS I pull for any of the hometowners.  I don't know *how far* outside of 'normal' my attitude is, but I suspect I'm not the only person in the M's-verse who feels that way.

And seriously, the M's aren't doom-and-gloom.  There are plenty of scenarios where they can angle into the playoffs.  But they're *probably* going to have to get lucky in order for that to happen, whether that's luck with injuries, or luck with breakouts, or luck with our competition suffering unforeseen collapses.  That doesn't diminish my interest in them--they've basically needed extra luck to make the playoffs since 2003, which they've obviously not received--but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed that we missed out on the potential player of a generation, who would have stepped into a position of need and immediately become an anchor for the coming decade.

Still, I'm excited for Ohtani, and I'm still excited for what the M's can do this offseason to craft a Wild Card worthy team.  They can still do it, and even though we might have to close our eyes and surrender to a dream-like state to see a path which leads back to competitive relevance, isn't baseball fandom at least half about those precious dreams?

Tread softly on those dreams, but keep treading.