We’re already in that familiar Nationals headspace where patience and impatience are fighting each other. We know what this season is supposed to be about, but we still want signs. Not promises, just signs. The early games feel less like results checks and more like evaluations. Who looks like they belong here now. Who still feels like they’re passing through.

Most of our attention keeps drifting to the kids, because that’s where the energy is. Abrams setting the tone at the top, playing like the game is moving at his speed now. Gore starts still feel like events, the kind you plan your night around, watching pitch counts and body language as much as radar readings. Every good inning feels like a little confirmation. Every rough one turns into a long conversation about development instead of panic.

The lineup nights are uneven, and we all know it. Some games grind in a good way, long at-bats, pressure building. Other nights stall out early and you can feel the crowd settling into observation mode instead of reaction. That’s part of it right now. We’re watching confidence form, not assuming it’s already there.

Nationals Park has a different rhythm these days. Less buzz before first pitch, more curiosity once things start happening. When something breaks our way, a big swing, a clean inning, a smart send, the noise jumps fast. You can feel people leaning in, checking whether this is the start of something or just a flash.

You start clocking certain matchups without meaning to. Young-on-young games. Starters you want to see challenged. Nights where you want to see how we respond after a rough series or a long road trip. Being there for those moments, when the answers are still forming and not everyone agrees on what they mean yet, that’s the part that feels real.