And it just ended. Already I’m feeling it. Even with four rounds of playoffs going on.

I like baseball’s long season. As a fan. Not as a reporter or sports editor.

Several upsides to it.

1. I like that the Dodgers and Angels televise basically every game they play … meaning I can see at least one game, and maybe two (if one team is on the road in the East) every night. That’s a great option when my 100 channels of TV have nothing else I like on … which happens surprisingly often.

2. The ball season is every day. Like a soap opera. In more ways than one. It goes on and on, yeah, but it also is about story lines developing and coming to some sort of conclusion. About new characters arriving on the scene, and the old ones hanging in there. It’s like a modern sports serial.

3. I like fantasy ball. I know most of you are fantasy football people, but I’ve never got into it. I like baseball’s stats. So many of them, and the numbers are so large … there is a sort of truth in them, eventually. And, I sorta get attached to the players on my team who turned out well. Well, “attached” is too strong a word, especially for a team as mediocre as mine was. (Damn you, Andruw Jones!) I suppose I came to appreciate Joakim Soria, a late pick who saved, what, 41 games for the Royals? I liked him.

Anyway, I like baseball’s numbers.

In basketball, too many players and teams mail in too many games. In football, the sample is too small. Only 16 regular-season games.

I like ball. I miss it already.