 Good morning, Hank, it's Tuesday. I had a great weekend. In fact, I'm probably experiencing peak happiness right now. So listen, I don't believe in listening to my gut. I find my gut to be unreliable on many levels. Sorry about my voice, by the way, I've been screaming for four days. But yeah, when you live with an illness of disordered thinking as I do, you have to learn not to trust your intuition because it's constantly lying to you. To cite a minor example from my own life, my intuition tells me many times a day that I did not lock the car door when, in fact, I always lock the car door. I bring this up because on Saturday morning, my unreliable gut told me that in order for the soccer team I've loved for most of my life to win the Champions League, I needed to give away one of my most prized possessions, a jersey signed by former Liverpool captain Steven Gerrard. Now, this is the part of the video where I tell you that, of course, I understand that giving away a signed jersey is not going to affect the outcome of a sporting event that's happening thousands of miles away, but no, no, I don't understand that. I mean, I get it intellectually, I guess, but one, like a lot of humans, I'm incurably superstitious, and two, who am I to say why we won the Champions League? But I think something else might have also been going on, which is that lately I've been thinking a lot about the verb to treasure and how valuing something can sometimes lead to hoarding it when what would help the universe most might be to share what you value rather than clinging to it. Like, that jersey had brought me a lot of joy, and maybe it was time for it to bring someone else joy. Right, so I was in New York City for book con that day. I walked into a soccer bar, found a guy sitting alone wearing a Liverpool shirt who appeared to be approximately a size L, and I told him that I'd had a premonition that I needed to give away this signed jersey, and I gave it to him. He was a nice guy with a PhD, and I think something sciency? He didn't know who I was, but he was very excited about the jersey, so we chatted for a bit, took a picture together, and then I left. He told me his name, but I don't remember it. I'm not going to show his face, because I don't know if he wants his face shown, but if anybody happens to know this guy, I'd love to know how his day went. Due primarily to me giving away this jersey, and secondarily to the exploits of the players on the field, Liverpool won the game 2-0. I was actually backstage at book con during the last couple minutes of the game, and Christine Frohseth, who plays Alaska in the Looking for Alaska Hulu show, got this video of me very nervous and excited. After the game, Akilah Hughes and I went to a Liverpool bar in the neighborhood and sang our hearts out, and everyone was hugging everyone. At one point in the evening, I was hugging a stranger, which is not something I do in the normal course of daily events, and I noticed that he was crying. He was heaving sobs, and I didn't understand why he was crying until I found that I was also crying, and then I knew why. Sports are about winning and losing, heartbreak and joy, grief and celebration. They provide simple narratives when life only provides complicated ones. But more than that, I think they are about celebrating together, and grieving together, and being together. Sports remind us that what we have is not as important as what we share, and that we are never truly alone, not in loss and not in victory. At the end of every game, Liverpool fans sing a song that ends walk on, walk on with hope in your heart, and you'll never walk alone. My wish is that each of us might always know that truth as profoundly as I did on Saturday night. Whether you love football or not, you'll never walk alone. Hank, I'll see you on Friday.