Hope is undefeated in March

Let's do it this year, Redlegs

I had a good conversation today with Mo Egger on ESPN 1530. We mostly talked about the book (get your copy here!) and my contention that Dave Concepcion should be in the Hall of Fame, but we obviously talked about the upcoming season for the Redlegs, as well. Both of us are optimistic, despite all the evidence of our adult lives.

I think there are some good reasons to be optimistic this time around, and I discussed those in this week’s column at Cincinnati Magazine. But I have to concede that the algorithms don’t necessarily agree with me.

Every spring, it happens. The air in Cincinnati thickens with the tart smell of beer and hot dogs, and suddenly we find ourselves nodding, yes, yes, this could be the year. Maybe it isn’t true, but it sure seems that nobody does optimism quite like we do. Maybe it’s our collective memory of the Big Red Machine, even though most of us never actually saw them play. Perhaps it’s the lingering memory of the 1990 Reds, the only World Series I ever had a chance to experience as a fan of one of the competing clubs. Or maybe I just want to believe.

Over the years, we’ve all endured heartbreak after heartbreak, read the same postmortems, the same lists of “What Went Wrong,” the same laments about payroll, pitching depth, or the occasional heartbreak injury (or injuries). Yet spring arrives, and somehow we once again become like a goldfish, memory wiped clean. Every prospect is the next Johnny Bench or Joey Votto (or Elly De La Cruz). Every trade acquisition is one new piece of the puzzle.

(Photo: Chad Dotson)

Okay, I’m overstating it a bit, but only a bit. There’s no logic to it, but this time of year, logic rarely wins out over emotion. By the time Opening Day rolls around, we seemingly always catch ourselves saying, “Why not us?”

Well, I do anyway. Maybe you don’t. But for now, I don’t want to think about the Redlegs stumbling in June, or treading water in August, or blowing it in September. Right now, Cincinnati is tied for first place. Every spring belongs to the Reds. It’s a tradition unlike any other.

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For Reds fans, hope is undefeated in March

This time every single year, as we celebrate Opening Day and the onset of a new baseball season, I always reflect on how Spring isn’t just a season in Cincinnati—it’s an annual celebration of contradictions. Stubborn optimism piled upon decades of disappointment. Parades filled with smiling faces who almost certainly are dreading the inevitable heartbreak associated with Reds baseball.

And, above all, Spring conjures up the act of defying logic and believing that this year (no, really, this time!) we’ve finally turned a corner. Reds fans have perfected this delicate balance of hope and heartache. Here we go again!

Last year, the Reds limped to a dispiriting 77-85 record, finishing fourth in a division that didn’t exactly distinguish itself around the baseball world. But the season wasn’t just about bad baseball; it was unlucky baseball. Injuries sabotaged the 2024 Reds, ravaging the roster. (But, yes, it was also bad baseball, with embarrassing defense and horrific baserunning compounding the injury problems.)

Yet injuries alone don’t absolve a front office that treats roster depth the way your uncle treats exercise: as a noble concept best admired from afar. Teams prepared for October and the endless grind of a 162-game gauntlet build contingencies. Good front offices stockpile talent.

I’m self-aware enough to know that this is my Spring Fever talking, but things just feel a little different this year. I think? Read the rest of this week’s Reds column over at Cincinnati Magazine.