I tried so hard. Honestly, I promise. I’m a diehard Texas Rangers fan. I hate David Freese.

As I sat in the stands, I kept trying to bring myself to root against Houston, the unquestioned biggest sports city rival of my hometown, Dallas. My favorite pitcher, Yu Darvish, was starting for the Los Angeles Dodgers in Game 7 of the World Series against the Houston Astros. I was crushed when he was traded midseason from the Rangers. But that didn’t keep me from wearing my Texas Rangers #11 Darvish shirt to the game while sitting in the visitor’s section – surrounded by many Astros fans. 

As I stared into the outfield, I kept having chilling flashbacks to the Rangers’ Game 6 of the 2011 World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals: All you had to do was catch it, Nelson Cruz … I hate you David Freese.

I still get queasy thinking about it.

This only aided my attempt to scorn the 2017 American League Champions – my sheer envy of the coveted position the Astros were in fueled my fire of hatred towards Houston sports.

But then the jolly plump man with a well-groomed beard and an Astros jacket sitting in front of me high-fived his family members. He turned around and gave me a warm smile after seeing his Houston Astros go up 5-0 in the second inning of the series finale and I couldn’t help but think to myself: Now, that’s a happy Texan right there. All of the sudden, I felt happy for Astros fans and the city of Houston. To me, I was no longer surrounded by Houstonians. Instead, I stood among fellow Texans. 

You see, the only thing stronger than my passion for Dallas sports is my love for the state that raised me. The state that taught me there’s never such a thing as being “too nice” or having “too much football.”

While people in Dallas were not directly affected by Hurricane Harvey, we all were shaken by the colossal damage it did to our Texas neighbor. Droves of people made the trek down south to lend a helping hand. Those that stayed behind either donated to the city of Houston or sheltered evacuees themselves. It was truly one of the tougher times as a Texan. We all mourned together. But we also all rallied to recover together. So, as it became abundantly clear the Astros were going to hoist the Commissioner’s Trophy, I thought it only fitting we rejoice together. 

Now, this joy I felt was far different than that I felt six years ago when the Rangers won their second consecutive American League pennant, or when the Dallas Mavericks upset LeBron James and the super-team Miami Heat earlier that year. That was pure sports euphoria, unfettered elation, and – for the latter victory – actual tears of joy. That’s what Astros fans were feeling following José Altuve’s throw to first for the final out. What I felt in Dodger Stadium that Wednesday night was a far more subdued happiness. As I stood among the numerous Houston supporters prior to the trophy presentation, I was proud all these Texans flew up to California to support their team. Proud but by no means surprised, it’s what Texans do. We go through great lengths to support those we love. We stop at nothing to be there for each other when it matters most. It’s the people that make Texas such a special place.

My friends on campus are often amused by my home-state pride:

My Texas flag belt, my cowboy boots, the Texas flag with my high school’s colors that hangs above my door. But I can’t help it. I love Texas. Which is why I couldn’t be happier for Houston for bringing home its first World Series championship in what has been a tumultuous year for the city, to say the least. Hopefully all you Astros fans will have my back when the Rangers finally get back to the big stage. 

So, while I currently happily reside in California, my heart will always be where the stars at night are big and bright: Deep in the heart of the Texas.

Contact Zach Naidu at zenaida ‘at’ stanford.edu.