We've been smacked right upside the head with cold, cold reality over the last month. Nonetheless, I remain occasionally undeterred, much like defensive end Art Norman.
"We're still a good team," Norman said. "We have to play almost perfect to win, basically."
Hey, wait a minute! That doesn't make sense in like a specific, you know, logic-based type of universe, but this is sports we're talking about. Norman's contradictory thought process is exactly the sort of cycle I will go through in all but the most desperate of cases. Can't help it. If the reality is bad, but not quite bad enough, it goes right to the depository in the back of my mind.
Heart: "We lost this one game, we're still okay, everything's okay."
[knuckles knock on skull; brain startles awake]
Brain: "Hmm? What time is-- oh for the love of god, man! This team is so bad it needs to be almost perfect to win games, and you damn well know this!"
Gut: "That's probably true, but it might not be."
Brain: "That's it, I'm out of here."
Me: "You all make valid points."