Tuesday, November 2, 2010


Well, the Giants are making my first few days of posting easy. I promise, after I attend the parade downtown tomorrow, that I will get on with the more "serious" business of life and blogging!

But for now...

the nail biting, the hair pulling, the high blood pressure, the serious anxiety, is over, and torture has turned to rapture. That incredible moment, with the last out, players running from the outfield, pouring from the dugout, coming together near the mound, high-fiving, fists pumping, huge hugs, rolling around on the ground, jumping into each others' arms, until finally coming together in one large, coalesced, gyrating circle of ecstatic celebration. Their reaction, and the look on their faces will stay with me for a long, long time. Shock, surprise, awe, and then the pure, unadulterated joy. A personal height few of us will ever experience. And on my face, the smile stayed until my jaws hurt, and I stayed up way too late because I wanted to watch every interview, hear every word about what the experience was like for each and every one of them.

This team has captured a city's heart. My daughter, who lives in San Francisco, was telling me during the series that she was amazed by the vibe. She was loving how strangers were talking to each other, how nice people were to each other. She said it reminded her of how people react when something bad happens, how the energy changes, the illusion of separation is erased, and there is a new-found sense of being united. How great it’s been, she said, to walk around without that wall that generally separates the million plus that live in the big city.

I love that baseball is non-contact and non-violent. I love that it is a “thinking man’s” (and woman’s!) game. I love that there is so much history and lore, such romanticism attached to it. I love the anticipation of each pitch. I love all the sensory experiences of the ballpark; the sound of bat on ball, ball on glove, the ump calling balls and strikes, vendors hawking peanuts and cotton candy, the roar of the crowd. The smell of popcorn, hotdogs, garlic fries, beer. The sight of a ballpark at night, with the diamond, the grass, the stadium, the seagulls, all shimmering under the bright lights. The feel of the bay breeze, and the cool San Francisco fog on your face.

And last, I love that baseball is/was maybe the only positive connection between my dad and I. He loved the game, he taught me about the game, he took me to the ballpark, and passed his passion for the game on to me. For most of my life, he was an angry, bitter, confused, toxic alcoholic. Most of my memories of him are painful. But not baseball. And I’m not at all sure I would have come to the game any other way.

I am reveling in this time, and there is a heightened appreciation of just how special it is. Time and again I’ve heard this sentiment, from players, broadcasters, sports-talkers, fans: Savor this. It is a rare gem. It is a gift. It is incredible. Enjoy it, savor it. And to be basking in such positive, joyful collective energy is also an incredible gift.

To a man, from Bruce Bochy, the manager, on down, I LOVE these guys. So many amazing stories. Such fun personalities. So much exhuberation and an amazing collective effort. I am proud of them. I am grateful to them.

Congratulations!! Way to go, 2010 World Champion Giants!!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!


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