(Expanding on a previous thought.)

Each Dodger season that ends shy of a World Series title brings disappointment. And then, relief.

I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted by the end of the baseball season. I welcome the break. I welcome having my nights and weekends back for other things.

Deep into winter, I start to wonder whether the next year of baseball will bring the same passion for me as the previous one. I find I'm not missing the game all that much. And when I start to think about how much time I spend devoted to the game, I sort of shake my head. The McCourt soap opera didn't exactly help in this respect.

But the thing that has happened for me every other year happened again. Something clicked. I started thinking about sunny days and green grass and my favorite players roaming before me. Baseball started to feel right again.

The fatigue and frustration from the end of the 2009 season have peeled away from me like a layer of skin. There are still reminders, but I'm not sitting with head in hands over Jonathan Broxton's last pitch to Jimmy Rollins. I'm ready to take the bad with the good.

But I couldn't do it without that break. Waking up from the break is like waking up from a good night's sleep. And man, do I appreciate a good night's sleep.