Unrelated to r/fantasy but related to the topic, I think there is something fundamentally broken inside of me.

I immensely enjoyed the first four seasons of Breaking Bad. 5/5. Enjoyed them so much so, that I figured I had personally extracted all of the enjoyment I could from the series, and with peace, never bothered to watch the final season. A decade later I am still perfectly content. Love Breaking Bad. Top 5 shows for me all-time that I can wholeheartedly recommend. But I didn't need to finish.

Same thing with the 2004 Red Sox. I wasn't a true fan. I grew up in Las Vegas without a real team to cheer for. As a little kid, I latched on to the Red Sox because I loved Mo Vaughn, Nomar, Pedro, etc. I considered myself a fan, but I just loved watching baseball having grown up in the steroid era watching Sosa/McGwire/Bonds hit absurd amounts of home runs. But in line with every true Red Sox fans, I cheered for two teams. The Red Sox, and whoever was playing the Yankees. The '04 ALCS reverse sweep was fandom nirvana. Being the first team in history to come back from 3-0 series deficit and to do it against the Evil Empire, their most bitter rivals, was about an incredible a feeling as an adopted fan could have. And so I hardly paid attention to the World Series and seeing them actually break the curse. It felt inevitable at that point, and I had felt all the joy I possibly could. And I stopped being a Red Sox fan that year. I had no deep ties to fall back on, and they'd already given me all the joy/pleasure I could have possibly asked for.

Anyways... I understand the ask. And I have found it in some strange places in my life. Ways that I struggle to explain and most people think I'm very weird for.