Oh, I do know the baseball kind of loneliness...
There was an unspoken pact I had with the apprentice that squatted in my office for three-plus years, that I would casually remark what bothered me in baseball, and she would speak what was on her mind in terms of whatever sport you can do on horseback. Over the years, you get a certain name recognition, I guess, be it Yoenis Cespedes or Sönke Rothenberger. Or, heck, Nick Brown.
Well, we've both since fled that godforsaken office, so now I can only yell at the stuffed toy raccoon for baseball reasons anymore.
And I haven't seen the Marlins so far this year; on my third Mets game and I saw ... I already forgot who I saw on Friday.