I’m a die hard Yankees fan, and right now, I’m devastated. The “rebuilding” Yankees made it WAAAAAY further than anyone thought they would, and lost an incredibly frustrating Game 7 of the ALCS to a better team in the Houston Astros. I thought with that final out that I’d go to bed in a horrible mood and not be over this for a while. Then, I saw this. I saw Tex’s real time, genuine reaction to his team winning the pennant for the second time in franchise history, and I cried. Not because I was upset over the loss, not because he was being a sore winner, but because of the whole narrative.

I cried over the fact that this kid has shared a bond with his father his entire life over the Astros, probably the worst baseball team I’ve ever seen entering the 2010s, and now they’re headed to the World Series the very year catastrophic devastation struck their city. Tex fly down to Houston in the middle of that crisis because he’s a fantastic fucking human, and he lost touch with his dad. He had to accept that he might’ve been going down there to find his dad’s dead body. Imagine swallowing that pill? I can’t. And now, while there’s no undoing all of the damage caused by Hurricane Harvey, or bringing back the lives that were lost, this baseball team represents some hope for the city. Look at the joy in Tex’s face, repeating “We won!” over and over again in disbelief.