After an extended absence from Evolvingtype, I have a lot on my mind. But before I will be able to really get to the bottom of life, explain the nuances of molecular cell biology, or demonstrate why paper is indeed better than plastic – I have to take a moment to say this:
If the San Francisco Giants win the World Series, I may be forced to move.
I have nothing against the city of San Francisco so much as I just hate their team. But there is something more. To understand why I might have to move, you have to understand that the hatred used to be a more competitive, constructive form of rivalry… let me explain.
I grew up rooting for the L.A. Dodgers. Back in the day when Stevie Sax was my favorite player, and Dusty Baker had yet to become a traitor. You see, as a Dodger fan, you naturally hated the Giants. You hated them because of the “Shot heard round the world” by Bobby Thompson of the then New York Giants versus Brooklyn Dodgers. You hated them because ,Willie Mays was great, but how many times have you seen players with names like Randy Winn make an over the shoulder grab and NOT have it immortalized by the powers that be. And you hated them because it was a healthy, Northern versus Southern California kind of thing to do.
Then I moved to the Bay Area, and the healthy rivalry became a little more intense. Barry Bonds, who I admit is a great baseball player, began really irritating the sh*t out of me every time that I heard him talk. And though I could care less if he uses performance enhancing drugs or not, I often wondered aloud if I was indeed the only one that noticed that Bonds had magically morphed from a 40 HR/ 40 Stolen base guy, into a 73 HR/ 13 Stolen base guy in a matter of just a couple of years. I mean the guy’s fingers have even gotten bigger!
But really, it is not the players that have turned this one personal. No, the problem began when they built Pac Bell park.
The place is beautiful. Great food stands, great view, pretty cool location. Just the kind of place to attract the worst kind of fan in major league baseball. “Hey you! Yeah you in the blue button up shirt, khaki pants, and Northface fleece,” you can almost hear the sushi vendor scream. “Would you like me to point you to the Starbucks stand? I imagine that a tall, non-fat latte would go great with that Krispy Kreme.” The vendor is standing in the way of an entire row of fans, blocking their view of the game. “Hey, sushi guy,” one fan might scream. “Isn’t that a great view of that 28 footer over there in the Bay?” Just then, a vice-president of Technology from eTechtronics Software Systems.com might worry to his co-worker upon returning from the bathroom, “did I miss anything?” The reply from the website developer: “Nah, Barry got walked. We have at least 3 innings before we have to pay attention to the game again.”
The Giants sold out. Over half of their tickets to most home games are bought by corporate sponsors and handed out to those who think that they can make it by the 3rd inning, but might have to leave during the 7th inning stretch. It’s the kind of fan that is currently running around the city of San Francisco talking about “their Giants”, the kind of fan that just learned that the second baseman’s name isn’t Kent Jeff.
So if the Giants win the Series, I am going to have to move. I don’t think that I will be able to stand the aftermath. And while the Los Angelino’s burned cars and rioted in the streets of L.A. when the Lakers took the championship, it might be even scarier up here. I can just see the headline:
“Wine and Cheese party breaks out on the Embarcadero: Fans claim that World Series win is a perfect compliment to Merlot and Brie”