Because I am an English major, and also because of our bullpen, I was in a yoga class this past week. The Reds season was still in existence then. It was a worse time.
I’m pretty sure the instructor isn’t a Reds fan, or a baseball fan, or any kind of sports fan, really. She is the type of person who walks to the strip of grass between a gas station parking lot and the road to put her hands on the grass because “I felt anxiety and needed to ground myself to the Earth.” I know this because she announced it. She’s that type of person, too. I love her. It’s like she ported in from 1968, clutching a bundle of sage and not particularly caring if you’ve noticed or not.
But it seemed as if she was at least aware of the existence of the Reds, because she also said “Observation is unhappiness.” And then “Pain is a signal that something is wrong.”
This came amidst reaction to the Cincinnati Reds’ statement that, due to the disappointing results of this season, president Nick Krall, GM Brad Meader, Phil Castellini, Bob Castellini, and that one beer guy who’s a little too committed to foam are all returning next year. You will take your losing and you will like it.
This isn’t as bad as it initially sounds, however, because the Reds have a Super-Secret Plan to turn it all around. “Nick and Brad will continue leading our baseball operations,” the announcement said, “and they are in the process of auditing every aspect of our player development system so they can make the decisions that will yield better results.” This is a wise tactic. Empowering people who can’t or won’t do their jobs to can’t or not do their jobs even harder typically yields vast improvement.
This information bounced right on off my Reds-hardened heart, but what gave me sad pause was the aftermath. Comment upon comment, post upon post, from lifelong Reds fans and season ticket holders individually raising the white flag on scraping together affection for this ballclub in its present state:
“I’m 35 years old and I’ve been a Reds fan my whole life and…”
“I stuck with them through the ’84 season but…”
“I was looking forward to bringing my newborn son to the games…”
“I’ve tried.”
“We’ve tried.”
“I’m done trying.”
You should not have to try to love and enjoy your team. It’s not a marriage, much as this might feel like one, seeing as innocent children are involved. It’s not a job, much as it also might feel like one, because this is work. But it is a relationship, one which is supposed to result in enjoyment.
Have the 2026 Reds resulted in enjoyment for you?
The concept of “I’ve tried” to enjoy watching a sport that’s supposed to serve as a distraction and balm from daily labors, a source of tightening the bonds of family and friendship, indicates something deeply wrong in the Reds’ relationship with the city. It’s not us.
I don’t care what Phil says. It is not you. It’s them.
Pain is a signal that something is wrong.
I honestly don’t know how Mets fans continue to exist year to year. I suppose it’s an enduring matter of fulfilled expectations. But Rockies fans at least get to go outside into some of the best summer weather into the world. You cannot say that about Queens.
And you also can’t say that nothing ever changes in Denver; every few decades or so, the elevation of the stadium changes as it is remeasured by the National Geodetic Survey, rendering the purple seats marking the mile-high line incorrect.
Well– the elevation shifts, but the seats never have, which should tell you something Reds-like, and this year the Rockies finished 58-104, an almost-there 41 games out of first place.
Feel better? You shouldn’t. The presence of another team out-sucking yours does not negate the origin of the initial suck.
Observation is unhappiness.
And “I’ve tried” indicates a sense of fealty, obligation– the presence of duty. To the Reds. Who finished the year having walked in a run twenty-six times this season, the most in the entirety of Major League Baseball. By quite the margin.
It’s true that a relationship– and this is a relationship, transactional as it might be on at least some level– involves investment on both sides. If the Reds do well and perform positive community outreach, they deserve our attention and support. You don’t have to, as a human being, give it. But my goodness, doing so feels like mustering enthusiasm for colonoscopy prep.
But at this point it’s obvious that, despite players’ efforts, this front office, having made its TV money and collected its shared revenue payout, is content to watch the bullpen compile a 4.68 ERA.
And the Reds, as professional sport– as, at the bottom, entertainment– bear the burden of keeping us in the seats. Not via bobbleheads. Not by tacking a D-list music act on the end of yet another loss.
No fanbase has the right to a winning team. The Constitution does not lie writhing on the ground because the Reds finished 27th in the whole league, runs-wise.
But you shouldn’t have to try.
Well said!
thank you 🙂
some of my best work issues from utter anguish
I have been a Reds fan since 1956 and was born in August 1951.
From 1952 to 1976 (the first 25 Reds seasons of my life), the Reds won 2 WS, 5 NL pennants, and 5 NL West division titles. Some of those teams are arguably the best NL teams EVER. 1975 & 1976,
From 1977 to 2026 (the next 50 Reds seasons of my life), the Reds won 1 WS, 1 NL pennant, and 5 NL West or Central division titles. Not exactly the NYY or LAD. The 1990 team was good but also lucky.
I share your longing for another Reds championship, but the Reds have been pretty ordinary for a long time now.
For me, the most-depressing fact of those you cited is: one World Series in the last 50 years. And I might add, also the fact that it’s 36 years since that last appearance,
I was 37 in 1990. I’m 73 now, meaning I’ve nearly doubled my lifetime since the ’90 World Series. If I’ve got to go 36 more to see another Series, I’ll be 109. I will, however, give it my best shot to get there.
For mine, it has to happen within about 10 years actuarily. I’m 75 and have a chance to get to 85 based on family history and insurance age tables.
You’ll both make 110 easy. Just point to the Banks and say “I remember when this was all warehouses.”
Does wonders for reversing the aging process, I’ve found.
I had a grandmother who lived to be 102. So I figure I have a one-in-four chance of at least getting that far.
I remember when Husman’s was on Third Street near (or in) the Banks. They moved to Moore Street in OTR in 1954.
Now I dont remember hearing the 1990 team referred to as “lucky”– to go wire to wire requires some sustained non-suckage. Then again, at the time I also considered New Kids on the Block as the pinnacle of fine musicianship, so maybe I wasn’t the best judge at the time.
Lucky. They started 33-12 then went 58-59 the rest of the season. Somehow the 33-12 Reds showed up for the postseason. The Reds were lucky they did.
For 25% of the season, they soared. For 75% of the season, they were ordinary. The Pirates were better. The Athletics were better. But the Reds go hot again when it counted.
My favorite part of the announcement is that “Nick and Brad will continue leading our baseball operations and they are in the process of auditing every aspect of our player development system so they can make the decisions that will yield better results.”
I thought they would be doing this every year! Mary Beth is right, it is them and not us.
Taking proper ownership of accountability is vital for healing.
In this case, our ownership amount is zero.
It’s likely all this is pinned to yoga class, but on the chance that’s a misguided observation, Reds fans are unique in reveling in their victimhood, as if the owners and FO is doing this intentionally to mock or insult us.
Even the 2025 playoff appearance was met by, “well, if the Mets hadn’t …” Nope, no success there, just another paltry performance.
Fans spend too much of their lives wallowing in their failures.
I’m certain we are all tired of finishing last and it’s great to have forums like this to release the demons.
I just don’t know if repeating it another 34,000 times is going to change things.
“as if the owners and FO is doing this intentionally to mock or insult us.”
Now I wonder where we would get that idea.
You can get that idea if you buy into the narrative that whining about the outcomes is somehow a plot against your well-being. I believe we can accuse the Reds of being inept or unevenly managed, but I don’t ever accept the notion that it’s intentional. If anything, the published and accepted story insists that Bob C. is trying TOO hard to win. Of course, we can ignore that bit of news when we want to embrace the notion that they are scheming to lose.
But the published story helps people feel good about their victimhood, since it’s not only personal but it’s a stated strategy — and is therefore part of the larger evil.
In a phrase, it’s fine for us to evaluate the outcomes, but it’s really not a good idea to interpret motives.
We do it anyhow because most of us feel better when we know the system is out to get us.
One of your best MBE.
it’s always so lovely to hear from you, LDS. Thanks 🙂
Wow … just … WOW!!!
May be your finest piece ever, MBE. You’ve summed it all up in the space of a single article. And done so with the passion and eloquence we’ve come to expect. Literally too many “great lines” to highlight.
As I read, sighed, and laughed, the one overarching question I have for you is …
What would Clete do?
I don’t want to see a lockout for a myriad of reasons. But something has GOT to give or whatever water is left at the bottom of this toilet will be gone entirely. And the stench of loss will continue to permeate all of RLN.
awww thank you.
I was just thinking this about Clete these past few weeks. He would have been a sprightly 117 years old last month.
The thing about Clete was, even if he banished the game from his presence, he was always right there by the radio or TV again by the beginning of the next game.
Clete gave in, but he never gave up.
Phil and his father, Bob Castellini, have held controlling interest in the Reds for the past 21 — mostly failed — seasons. My question to them is are you happy with their results since you have owned them? Do you run your business the same way or a different way that allows you to be more successful? If your answer is #2 then why not change the way you are allowing the Reds to be run? I will wait for your answer.
This question is why they’re not having Redsfest this year.
I know, I know, the strike.
But also this question.
Beautifully written and spot on.
Pain is a signal that something is wrong.
Thanks! Having such statements to think about while trying to yank both legs up over your own head is often quite useful.
Woody Allen once spoke about a colonoscopy, saying that the anesthetic causes a calm, peaceful experience as you drift off, similar to dying.
“So death,” he said, “is like a colonoscopy.”
“The problem,” he continued, “is that life is like the prep day.”
I suppose that for some of us diehard fans, following the last-place Reds could feel like an entire season of prep days.
Dear Lord I hope not. I guess that makes the 1990 team the last time you get to eat red-colored food before the hell begins.
As I recall, back in the ’70s, red-colored food was known as The Big Red Cuisine.
If you want to apply a kind of zen view of the Reds and the season, and that is appreciate the games they won, and when they played well. Pitched well, hit in a timely manner, played baseball….:”The right way”.
And then there were games they won. And the games they lost, and some games they just got beat bad…..Like 20-0 bad. Didn’t watch that one, by the way.
Unless something really dramatic happens with the ownership and the Front Office, and the way they do things, we are likely stuck in this situation. Some years, everything will go pretty good, and they may win 84-85 games. And some years they will have problems, and win 73-78 games. And that’s where we are.
Barring bringing up Alfredo Duno next Spring, and he hits 40 homers and bats .280 and he an Sal drive in 100 runs apiece. Could happen, but the odds are really LONG.
And that’s the way it will be with the Castellini’s running the team. Even if they give Krall and Meador the heave ho (maybe after the 2027 season if that is disappointing), they will hire people LIKE them. Not imaginative, not willing to spend more money, not willing to embrace a lot of newer metrics to evaluate players, etc.
Here we are. Appreciate the way things are on the good days. I know.
I have been kind of following the Reds since the 1961 World Series, when they lost in 5 to the Yankees. I was just a little kid then.
It’s an excellent point tha Krall et al is not necessarily *the* problem. Even if ownership were to bring on Votto, they’d have to be willing to abide by his calls for real change, which I sincerely doubt they would.
and thank you for sharing about the lovable Ragamuffin Reds. My mom was in college at the Mount then and remembered watching the games in the dayhop student lounge to the end of her life. That World Series irreversibly changed fandom for her. She said, “They did so well and then they just… *lost*. They got stomped by the Yankees. And it was just.. *over*.” I don’t think she ever got as emotionally involved with a sports team after.
We had great seats for the 1961 WS. Dad was a friend of Chief Usher Al Stevens, and he got us two seats in 3rd row behind Reds dugout. Danny Murtaugh, Pirates manager, sat right next to us.
Dad went to all three games. Mom, my brother, and I each went to one game. I saw the 13-5 loss in the 5th game.
“This came amidst reaction to the Cincinnati Reds’ statement that, due to the disappointing results of this season, president Nick Krall, GM Brad Meader, Phil Castellini, Bob Castellini, and that one beer guy who’s a little too committed to foam are all returning next year. You will take your losing and you will like it.”
😀 Another good article. 🙂
thank you, Melvin. It always makes me smile to see your name, as my dad was Melvin Ronald. Thanks for bringing Dad into my evening 🙂
Glad to make you smile. Keep it up. 🙂
You have summed it all up so beautifully (the 60 years I have been a fan). I will die a Red fan, but… ah futility. I still enjoy the heart, win or lose, but wish there was more win and less lose. You make it all bearable. Keep writing.