# Math Is Hard, Let’s Go to the Angels Game! + Rootin’ for the Enemy and Beware of Hitchhiking Mantises

I’m a freak, I admit it. I loved math in school. Algebra, geometry, trig, calc, it all appealed. I was even working on a math minor in college until multiple variable calculus. Trippy stuff that. Once I stopped being able to see what the shapes were doing in my head. *tap, tap* I’m out. But I still enjoy it. Problem solving. Statistics. Wonderful stuff! But this elimination number math? Yuck! That’s an entirely different story.

Clearly Jered Weaver, Jeff Mathis and Dan Haren aren't overly fond of this whole elimination number math thing either. Angels vs. A's, May 25, 2011. Photo by This is a very simple game...

Oh I am familiar with it. Between my Dodger fan childhood and my Angels fan adulthood, I have _plenty_ of experience with elimination number math, I’m afraid, and just enough experience with magic number math to know that I significantly prefer that…then again, don’t we all? The Angels have certainly spoiled me more years than not this past decade but, especially with last season’s refresher course, I’m not too rusty to torture myself with endless “what if” elimination number math scenarios. Tom Godwin had the Cold Equations. I call these the Desperate Equations.

Could it happen this way?:

If the Rangers lose one and the Angels win two, and the Rangers lose one and then another one, and another two and the Angels win one and then another two and two more…

Or, maybe, could it happen this way?:

If the Red Sox lose one, and lose one more, and the Rays lose two, and the Red Sox lose one and the Rays lose two more, and the Angels win four…

So, one plus one plus two plus one… Hmmmm….anyone else overcome with an irrational desire to watch Clue? ;)

Say what crazy Angels blogger lady?! One plus two plus one plus what? Run that math by us one more time. Angels vs. A's, May 25, 2011. Photo by This is a very simple game...

All equations point to the fact that the Angels still have a chance. But with another loss to their record, and especially if they continue committing those kind of errors, it’s a thin wisp of a chance, even after this evening’s win. If they win just about every game left. If the Rangers or the Red Sox and the Rays start losing, a lot. If. If. If…suffice to say, it’s pretty darned iffy. But stranger things have happened.

I still have hope. I am practical and this is far from my first September rodeo, but I have hope. And I have tickets to Friday night’s game against the A’s and Monday night’s game against the Rangers. One way or the other, however these equations work themselves out, I want to enjoy watching my team play as much as possible. After all, whether it starts at the end of October or September, it’s a long, cold, baseball-less winter. Gotta gorge yourself while the game’s in season…and if the solution to either of the equations works out to a be Red, Halo’d October, I want to be there to see it.

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And sadly, as part of the Desperate Equations, I find myself once again rooting for the Yankees. The AL West is so…well…the AL West that this happens once or twice a season out of necessity. The enemy of my enemy is…still really distasteful to root for truth be told but, much like when I rooted for the Red Sox against the Rangers a few weeks ago, it has be done.

However, it amuses me to no end that Red Sox fans are rooting for the Yankees along with me at the moment. Red Sox fans, you’re a little newer at this rooting for the enemy thing than some of the rest of us, so I offer you the following advice from another favorite movie:

The shame is like the pain. You only feel it once.

And that is absolutely…not true. But the shame and the pain do get a little be better each time. Enjoy. ;)

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On a more humorous note, when Seth and I stopped for gas on the way out of town this weekend, we noticed we had a hitchhiker on the pedal of my bike:

Hitchhiking Mantis says, "Take me to your LoMo!" Cambria Trip, September 16, 2011. Photo by This is a very simple game...

We tried to coax the little guy off, but he was so stubborn he would have none of it. And he had two broken back legs so we figured we would just let him be. Maybe the wind would give him enough of a lift to fly away when we took off. But no, the next morning when we went to unload our bikes for our morning ride, some 245 miles away, he was still in the truck bed and very much alive. This time he let us move him to the grass. Maybe he was hoping to catch some sort of wounded mantis transport for Florida? It was like the Incredible Journey in search of LoMo.