You know it's October when it's 1am on a Wednesday night, you're sitting in a dark house lit only by the glare of the TV, your stomach still not able to fully digest dinner, your fingernails bitten down to stubs, legs aching from pacing for so long, alarm clock set to go off in a few short hours, and yet - there isn't anywhere else you'd rather be.

Last night's game had the excitement, emotion, and ups and downs of an entire series - all of it jampacked into 4 excruciating hours. There are loads of things to talk about. Bellhorn's gaffe at 2nd, the offense's failure to capitalize on two bases loaded situations, Manny and Cabrera's crossed signals in the field, Pedro's inspiring performance on the mound, Tito's flawless use of the bullpen...

But I'll leave that to the countless other Sox blogs. Because this morning, all I know is this - I am exhausted. I am sleep deprived. I am popping Tylenol like Bonds is steroids. And this - I am completely in love with this team.

I love every single member of the roster, from the MVP candidate to the 4th outfielder to the last guy to warm in the bullpen. Hell, if Cesar Crespo were still here, I might even be tricked into loving him, too. I love their celebrations in the dugout. I love their ridiculous hair styles. I love their ability to come back from any deficit. I love their passion for the game. I love their confidence in winning any, and every, game. I love their dirt dog style. I love the fact that they have taught an entire Nation that it's ok for men to hug. I love their ability to shrug off an error. I love their selflessness. I love the fact that they think This Is The Year.

And most of all, I love the fact that we agree.