I'm lost. Not plane crashed and caught on a remote island with 48 people lost, just lost.
You want to know why? Because I live the life of an Oakland A's fan.
I recently shared my quirky, obsessive nature when it comes to cheering on the green and gold. I use player's numbers as good luck charms.
Well, suddenly, there is a lack of good numbers for me to refer to. If I get on the treadmill, I now have to either go three minutes (Eric Chavez) or 75 (Barry Zito). And make no mistake, my time spent on the treadmill, or my volume on my car stereo will have a direct impact on how these players do this season.
I'm in quite the quandry.
I'm also lost when I look up at the five foot wide shelf above my computer and I no longer have bobbleheads for any current A's but Eric Chavez and Barry Zito (and a River Cats Eric Byrnes). Tejada, Mulder, Hudson, Hernandez and Dye? Gone, gone, gone, gone and gone.
I pull into the garage at night and my Tejada poster still hangs by our shoe rack. My "Flamethrowers" poster featuring Hudson, Mulder and Zito sways in the fierce Sacramento wind when the garage door is open, taunting me with the reality that players I'd grown attached to are gone.
The other day I logged onto ESPN and saw something terrifying next to Tim Hudson's name. It said, "Atlanta Braves, pitcher." Truly, it was a mistake. A bad dream. Yet it isn't.
The reality is heavy. The number 15 is no longer a lucky one.
So, I wait to see if Danny Haren wears number 55, or Joe Blanton keeps number 64 or Rich Harden gets his own bobblehead this year. For now I remain in limbo, waiting to see what I can do to help our boys.
If I've learned anything through being an Oakland A's fan, it's that Billy Beane will always be evolving our A's to remain competitive, no matter what bobbleheads or posters or silly superstitions any of us have. He's not shy. He's not afraid. And he certainly isn't lost.