The newspaper I am the sports editor for will see its first issue of the year drop tomorrow. I'm really excited for it, but I can't really sit back and enjoy the feeling. Like a baseball player who just hit a home run and admires the ball flying through the air. Like a kick returner watching himself take it to the house on the big screen. Like a basketball player turning to the crowd after nailing a three-pointer.
I can't do any of that.
It's like what coaches say after winning big games: You can't celebrate it because there's another one tomorrow, or next week.
Here's how I'm looking at it: This was game one of the World Series. I won. At least I think I did. I didn't get out without injuries though. I'm beaten, bruised, and very tired. But there's no time for recuperating, because I have to be up early tomorrow and get ready for game two. And this isn't a best-of-seven series. I still have several hundred games left before I can take home the trophy.
That is, if I win at all.
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