Imagine you are watching baseball. baseballin the year of our Lord 2024. In a world where catching is done one-handed, with the defender using the other hand, where Olympic skateboarders do it, and where Jaylen Brown exists, you’ll see a guy wait 20 seconds to throw a ball at an invisible rectangle while another guy with a stick tries to hit him from any distance, a couple of other guys stand far away picking grass, and half the players on a team might not touch a ball for three hours.

It’s August, and it’s days like this for Boston sports fans like me to wonder what they’re doing with their lives. The Red Sox are the only Boston team currently playing, and while I accept baseball’s rhetorical importance to the English language—writers have been using baseball metaphors since McKinley’s presidency—every July and August I have to hold myself hostage and pretend I care if the Red Sox are 3.5 or 4.5 games behind the Kansas City Royals in the final wild-card spot.

It’s a nightly struggle. I watch all the games while doing something productive or just entertaining on a second screen, occasionally glancing up when the players decide to actually play the sport I’m supposedly watching. I check before bed to see if the Royals won or lost. Let that sink in: I check to see if the Kansas City Royals I won or lost a baseball game as if I really cared. Who am I kidding?

Since I was old enough to use the Boston sports calendar as a guide to my emotional well-being, the two months between the end of the Boston Celtics’ season and the start of the New England Patriots’ season have been a difficult time for me. I’m a sports addict, and I watch anything I can get my hands on in a vain attempt to fill the void left by the Patriots’ fleeting glory and the Celtics’ current triumph. And there’s some great sports on TV. The WNBA season is in the home stretch, the Olympics come around every now and then, and even a few tennis tournaments here and there.

But I need someone to cheer for that isn’t the Red Sox. My joy in sports isn’t mere excitement, it’s pure Boston fan fever. The Red Sox at least have that, but baseball is like watching your neighbor mow his lawn and wondering if he’ll ever get that last bit of grass he seems to be missing. Is there anyone around who can save me when it comes to the really exciting sports?

Now, the Connecticut Sun are absolutely amazing and are steamrolling their way into second place in the WNBA, but the league lacks a team based in Boston itself, which limits my sense of connection to the team. I’m from Massachusetts, not Connecticut! And then there’s the terrifying fact that people from Connecticut might like the Yankees or the Knicks! I can’t share a basketball team with those people.

Thankfully, the Sun are really starting to embrace the Celtics connection. On Tuesday, they played in front of a sold-out crowd at TD Garden, which had several Celtics in attendance. It was the first-ever WNBA game at the Celtics’ home stadium. DeWanna Bonner even referred to the Celtics as her “brother team.” Perhaps in the near future, the Sun can be renamed the “New England Sun,” knock out all of the New Yorkers and take the lead for the other five states without a team. This is by far the most promising and exciting option.

What about tennis players from Boston? (Checks notes) No, not a player that has been even one percent relevant in my life is from Massachusetts, let alone Boston. I guess the 2021 Lavar Cup was at the TD Garden, but like… come on, man, we’re just grasping at straws here. How about some Major League Soccer? I studied abroad in Germany, so I kind of like soccer now… aaaaand the New England Revolution are in last place. And I don’t know what’s worse: being in last place or not knowing that.

Maybe the universe is trying to help me. As excited as I get about Boston sporting events all year long, maybe a little two-month meditation is exactly what I need. Just relax. Take in the world. See trees, touch grass. Enjoy the sporting events without having to cheer anyone on. Learning how to live without the Celtics and Patriots would be a nice piece of personal growth.

But screw it. Cheering for Boston teams isn’t an illness or an addiction; it’s about feeling alive. It’s about seeking release in 48 minutes of basketball, striving for something that feels impossible but actually isn’t. I can put on a happy face in July, but by the end of August I need my teams back.

But despite my utter ridiculousness, this is a blessing in disguise. It’s precisely because my teams go away that I love them so much, because no matter how stressful or out of control my life is, they always come back. They say the only constant in life is change, but – unless there’s a complete societal collapse – the other constant will be my teams returning from hiatus. And August is the time when I can hope irresponsibly without fear of consequence.

This year, Drake Maye will prove he is the future of the Patriots and the Celtics will defend their title. I’m not counting on the Red Sox, so I need the other two back as soon as possible.