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Category Archives: San Francisco – Leaving your heart

A Bittersweet Farewell to Candlestick: Faithful won’t Follow

24 Tuesday Dec 2013

Posted by route53 in Route 53 - Life is A Highway, San Francisco - Leaving your heart, San Francisco - Sports & Life

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49ers, candlestick, football, NFL, san Francisco, the stick

IMG_0198“We always said homefield advantage wasn’t about the field, we knew it was about the fans,” – Joe Montana

As of this writing we don’t know if there will ever be another game at “The Stick”.  An emotional victory last night let the emotions pour out.

I tried not to be bitter watch Jed York try to convince the fans that we were just “moving down the road to a castle” by symbolically lifting some turf that will be put in the new stadium or taking the last game ball and passing the torch.  You didn’t capture it on TV, but the chorus of boos from the fans was heard. #16 won’t be throwing TDs at Levi’s Stadium, the Beatles won’t be performing their last concert there, The “Say Hey” kid won’t be knocking em out of the park there, the greatest WR that ever played won’t be doing the cabbage patch there, and most importantly many of the longtime Faithful won’t be there.  Finally, my memories of my father won’t be there.

The 49er fans have always been called the Faithful.  Partly because it sat through decades without a championship and also because it dealt with a stadium was a bit of a Frankenstein (built in a windy part of town with an open end for baseball and then closed when the 49ers were brought to stadium).  The Stick never pretended to be more than she was and she gave us all that she had, even cracking but not breaking during the 1989 earthquake.

Alas, the people who love state of the art over nostalgia could not hold out and the 49ers will be moving south some 35 miles.  Contrary to what the team might have people believe, the passion that is football will not move with them.  Yes, some will follow, but true passion comes from many years.

I had a great night sitting next to Brent Jones, the famous TE from 4 Super Bowls as well as the generations of families.  These tickets have been in my family and those around us for almost 50 years.  This was my Sunday family.  When the 49ers were home I would spend my Sundays sitting here with my dad, hearing my first cuss words from the old military guy next to me, getting my first taste of bourbon from the old ladies behind me, and learning about the birds and the bees from the law enforcement people who sat on the other side of us.  These were family and memories created.  The 49ers asked us for $40K-$80K per seat to move south with them.  They even asked us for almost $1K to have the faded seat complete with gum and seagull poop.  The same seats that made me think of my dad; imagine having to pay $1K just to keep memories that belong to you.  Whenever I showed up on Sundays, I’d feel my dad’s presence next to me. Only one person in our section renewed.

So when the 49ers eventually go through consecutive bad seasons in the new stadium and fans don’t show up, remember the Faithful.  They showed up for 2-14 seasons.  They watched Jim Druckenmiller, they watched an old OJ, they watched Mike Singletary fall apart, they sat in darkness through blackouts and they still came out in those frigid temperatures which were much overblown.  For the most part, those fans at Levi’s will resemble more the disinterested emotionless wine-sippers opponents always complained about, but remember they aren’t the true Faithful.  Those people will be at home watching on TV.

IMG_0194That last victory was very sweet and it was a little bitter.

Candlestick was old, she was not that attractive, she was not user friendly, she was not tech savvy, but she was ours and that is all we wanted.

She gave us 5 Super Bowl Champions, she gave us the Bay Bridge World Series,  she gave us the Croix de Candlestick, and she enriched our lives.

Her detractors might slam her, but her fans really will miss her and the memories she created.  Thank you old girl, your magic was beautiful tonight.  In case you wonder if you were loved, you were truly respected.  Respect is more important than being loved.  Hopefully we will get one last chance to fill her aisles in the post-season.

Note: I’m a loyalist.  I always believe you dance with the girl that brought you to the dance.  I wrote this entry to justify my belief that the 49ers are making a mistake chasing corporate dollars at the expense of long-term community building. Did the 49ers need a new stadium? Yes.  but I think relocating so far away from their base shows a lack of knowledge and accurate forecasting. When the 49ers do suffer a downturn and I look back on this entry when the 49ers attendance dwindles, I will be watching closely.  Mostly I want to look the 25 year old 49er AE from Oklahoma who told me I was not a true 49er Faithful for not spending $160K to follow the team to the new stadium.

Friday Afternoons with Mom

17 Sunday Mar 2013

Posted by route53 in Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway, San Francisco - Leaving your heart

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aging, birthday, Burma, cancer, grandmothers, life, survivor, travel

IMG_1011[1]

Last Friday I was driving home early from a downtown meeting when I decided to take a slight detour to visit my mom.  It was her birthday after all and I had yet to wish her a Happy Birthday.  There was a risk though.  She might not be home.  My mother is not your ordinary mid-70s grandmother widow who sits at home in front of the television knitting sweaters for her grandchildren or even baking cookies for her neighbors.  Catching my mother at home is like finding a gambler in his room in Vegas.

I was lucky. And she let me know it.  I caught her on her iPad (I don’t even own one) checking out movie times and booking dinner reservations.  “I’m going to dinner with Pat and Ford, then we’re going to see Oz, the Great Wizard, and then play cards.  Want to come along?”  Oh no I couldn’t burden my mother and drag down all her fun!  The idea of dropping in on my “elderly mother” so she wouldn’t be lonely was preposterous.  I was the lonely one looking for the comfort of knowing that she is perfectly fine.

“Thanks for the birthday wishes.  What are you doing here?” she asked.  I guess it was not obvious.  My mom is so hip she would rather get a Facebook birthday post on her wall.  She wouldn’t want me to waste paper or spend money on stamps.

We finally settled down as she showed me some of her new projects and she handed me some old papers that belonged to my dad.  She became a little somber at the thought of my dad who has been gone for over 7 years now. “I miss James”, she said unprompted.  I do too, but somehow I feel she’s moved on a little better than me and my siblings.  My dad was the ultimate provider.  I remember him visiting his 90-year-old mother in Chinatown after leaving his dental office downtown every day.  He’d check in with her and she’d give him some strange Chinese medicine or dish to give to his family. A mother of 8 children who basically raised them herself in a small 1-bedroom apartment, she still looked after her own despite her son trying to take care of her.  My dad married a similar woman.

My mom, after her brief, moment of reflection pulled out a map.  “So when am I taking you guys to China?”  My mom wants to introduce my wife and kids to their (kids, not wife) Asian ancestry.  There is no other one better to do this.  My parents used to leave us kids home and venture off to China where my dad would lead tours for a month at a time and come back with the very first Walkman ( you remember the one that you clipped to your belt and pull down your pants because it was so heavy?).  I would have loved to have traveled with my grandfather to China, so giving my children the opportunity to do this with their only living Asian grandparent would be a real treat.  Then she said continued, “Don’t worry your dad and I will pay.” Darn, there she goes trying to take care of me again when I am supposed to take care of her.  Of course she had to bring in my departed dad into the picture.  Yes, the great provider is still taking care of us from the heavens and she invoked his spirit knowing I would protest otherwise.

I told her we’d discuss money later, but she continued, “Your dad left me a nice pension, it’s okay, he worked 6 days a week for you kids, not for me. I’ll go to Disney with your sister and her family.  Stop worrying about me.”

Worry?  This is a 70-year-old lady world traveler who readily tells people her zodiac sign before she tells you her name.  She’s a 10 year survivor of breast cancer, a widow, a grandmother of four, a sister to seven brothers, and avid sports fan.  She then hands me a slip of paper. It is a list of chores (pick up the paper and water the flowers) “Don’t forget my itinerary.  I leave for Burma on Friday.”

“What?”  Okay, how many have people have a mom like my mom at her age saying that she is off to Burma?

“Remember Shelley?  I’m going with her mom.  She lost her husband last year and wants to go.  It will be good for her.  Did you know that Burma is one of the last countries to adopt the internet?  In fact the Chairman of Google is going there as well to help explain to them.”  There goes my mother telling me more about the internet than I already know.  Needless to day, she will be the person I call when I have wireless router issues in my own home.

I remind her that Burma is a 3rd World country despite all the pictures of the great food that she will be eating.  She shoves photo after photo in front of me as I tell her to watch herself.  She’s not listening.  I tell her that she doesn’t need her iPhone, but she tells me how she is going to load up the new Justin Timberlake album so she can listen to it on her trip.  Suddenly I am 10 years old again and I’m getting a lecture from my father.  Only this time it is my mom.  She has taken over his role.  She is the great provider.

“Erik, you have to stop worrying about me.  I’ve survived cancer.  I have a second chance.  I’m not going to die without taking care of those around me.  I have a second chance to give everyone my attention.  I’m paying for your trip because I don’t want you and your wife to worry about the money. You have wonderful kids. You can’t be so thrifty that you don’t give your kids a great experience.  I’m helping your uncle because he needs my help (her 60-year-old younger brother needs support and my mother checks on him weekly and gives him a small weekly allowance).  Your dad (there she goes again invoking the spirit of the great provider) and I wanted you to have more than we had and now we want to help you give your kids more than you had.”

Damn, my mother is so right.  I laugh at her strength.  Her willpower and zest for life is amazing.  She is the patron saint of positive attitude.  Sometimes I think she is so naive.  I think she thinks her eldest son is too jaded.  She knows I’m going to worry about her on her trip, but reads my mind, “Don’t worry, will you stop? The worst thing that will happen to your mother on this trip is that I will burn my mouth on all those spicy foods.”

She gives me a big hug and we go on to talk about me, my kids, my family, her family, my friends, her friends, and what seems like her expected travel itinerary for the next decade.  Maybe she should join Dennis Rodman on his next trip to North Korea.  Two hours go by and I’m now late for dinner with my family, but I suddenly feel like my dad and his mother as she gives me a bag full of cookies and teas, and other assorted refrigerated products to bring home, “I don’t want these to be sitting around while I’m gone.”

The next evening we go out to dinner to celebrate her birthday and my daughter’s birthday.  Like the way she will suddenly disappear and travel to the other side of the world, my brother-in-law notices she is trying to pay for her own birthday dinner.  She is frustrated when her intercepts and stops her.  When she gets back to the table, she’s not happy.  I smile at her and she tells me that we are all like our father.  I smile back and tell her that she is like him too.  The great provider.

25 Year Anniversary – Father’s Day

17 Sunday Jun 2012

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dads, Father's Day, golf, Harding Park, Olympic Club, san Francisco, U.S. Open

Fathers Day Memory

25 Father’s Days ago, my father shook me out of bed and asked me to go play golf at Harding Park which is located just across the street from the Olympic Club which back in 1987 was hosting the US Open.  25 years later I will be thinking of my dad and that awesome morning as the US Open is played again at the Olympic Club.  You see, on that Father’s Day 25 years ago, my dad hit a hole-in-one on the 11th hole at Harding Park. The smile and embarrassed laugh my dad gave will never be forgotten.

 

All I could say was “Happy Father’s Day”.  His comment, ” Thanks, for the great day”.  I like to think it wasn’t about the hole in one , but sharing it with friends and family.  Golf will always be a Father’s Day sport as long as the US Open takes place over Father’s Day weekend.  The US Open, golf, and that day 25 years ago will always make it more than a Hallmark Holiday in my book.

 

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there.

My Love Affair

27 Sunday May 2012

Posted by route53 in San Francisco - Leaving your heart, Travels: The Route 53

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coit tower, golden Gate bridge, photography, san Francisco, tourists

So my wife wonders where I wandered off to last night.  I told her I was having an affair.  She didn’t fall for it.  Well it was semi-true.  For 40+ years I’ve been in love with the city I was fortunate to be born and raised in. Tonight, one of her best assets celebrates her 75th birthday.  So before the crowds arrived, I thought I’d wish her a Happy Birthday alone with her.

It was a beautifully clear evening and she never looked better.

San Francisco is so gorgeous I can never stop taking photos even though I’ve photographed her hudreds of times.  The hilarious story is that in taking the photos, there were severeal journalists who got trapped along with me as they closed the park early to prepare for tonight’s festivities.

Eventually we got out and some of the photographers and I went out and took a few more photos.  I couldn’t miss the chance to learn from some of the best photojournalists around.

Coit Tower bathed in Giants Orange

The San Francisco Skyline

So yes, I’ve been having an affair.  And yes she is beautiful.  I’m sorry.  I just can’t stop loving her.  Everyday she makes me smile.  Thanks San Francisco.

Not just sad but upset – When bureaucrats don’t react.

15 Tuesday May 2012

Posted by route53 in San Francisco - Leaving your heart

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accident, collision, pedestrians, san Francisco, SFMTA, traffic

I really hate it when you see something coming and you try to be a good citizen and make people aware of a problem, but they don’t listen.

You’ll see in the 3rd paragraph where they say that one of the dangerous intersections I was warning them about was not a big problem and that rigorous traffic enforcement was necessary.    Yes, they pushed the blame.  Well I hope they do something soon, because their lack of responsibility cost someone their life.

Recently a woman crossed the street illegally near my house at a dangerous intersection and lost her life. All I asked was that barriers and warning be put up so that pedestrians understood better the dangers.  Just tonight I was going by the same street and there were people ready to play “Frogger” with their lives despite the Memorial of flowers just 15 yards away.

Inspire to be Inspired – Breast Cancer stories

26 Monday Sep 2011

Posted by route53 in Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway, San Francisco - Leaving your heart

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breast cancer, cancer, charity, Inspiration, komen, komensf, race for the cure, san Francisco, survivors

This morning my family participated in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure for breast cancer.  I have to admit that having dedicated my runs to breast cancer research over the last 3 years, I wasn’t necessarily excited about running with my family as part of the team put together by the schoolthat our kids attend.  I like running alone with my thoughts, but this run is for a good cause and breast cancer runs are an event that I encourage everyone to experience.

Each year I forget what a scene it is.  Survivors of breast cancer are given special shirts that help them stand out.    As my kids and I picked up our regular shirts we saw my wife go to the “Survivors” tent to pick up her shirt.  The hug she was given by the volunteer and the clapping that people gave her hit me.  It reminded me how serious this all is and how lucky we are.  Everywhere, teams lined up for their group photo.  That is where you saw the numbers.  We counted 5 in the Bank of America group, 6 in the Oracle group, 3 in our school’s group.  Another 4 in the Pottery Barn group.  The numbers were there.  1 in 8 people there had survived cancer.

My son and I ran the 5K race leaving my wife and another mom survivor after she told us to run ahead.  As we ran past a survivor or one passed us the cheering got loud.  We completed the race and waited at the finish line for my wife.  It is such a rare race.  People wait by the finish line more than any other race and cheer each other on.  Most runners leave, but no at this race.  As you see that special pink shirt that says “Survivor”, you see their fist pump, the tears and the smiles on their face and you cheer and clap until your hands hurt.  And then for me I see my wife running across the line holding my daughters ahdna and her friend’s hand up high and smiling.  My son put his arm around my waist.  We let everyone else cheer.  It made me proud and inspired as a participant. Sounds weird, but that’s how I felt.  In a way, I felt bad that I had almost not wanted to participate for my own selfish reasons.

Pink Balloon arch by the Ferry building start line

Yes I was inspired by my wife as well as the hundreds of other survivors who crossed the finish line today.  But more importantly I was inspired by the outpouring of community that I saw as people encouraged complete strangers and urged them on.  One lady said , “This race is nothing.  I kicked cancer’s butt” as  local reporter approached her as she crossed the finish line.  The power of encouragement drove them.  My wife said the outpouring of encouragement every step of the way wouldn’t let her stop.

Probably the best part of the Komen Race For the Cure is the celebration at the end where survivors walk one by one through arches of pink flowers  and are serenaded with a round of applause from all participants.   As each individual survivor emerges, the roar is amazing and you can almost see their stories.  There were women in their 80s.  There was a young teenage girl.  There were women of all ethnicities.  As woman after woman emerges, there is the build up of emotion and you wonder if it will ever end.
Then everyone breaks out and sings “I will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor (?).  To me the song is wrong.  I think they should be playing Eye of the Tiger BY Survivor.  These women are not survivors.  They are tough fighters.  Just like Rocky.  They inspire us to run and never ever give up because we know where we came from.

Giants 12 Days of Christmas

11 Saturday Dec 2010

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baseball 12 Days of Christmas, Buster Posey, Christmas, Giants

“No, instead, there’s a pole. It requires no decoration. I find tinsel  distracting.”  – Frank Costanza

AT&T Park

Giants Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
A catcher named Buster Posey.

On the second day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the third day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Seven fans a-tortured,
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Eight Braves a-bumbling,
Seven fans a-tortured,
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Nine Phillies flailing,
Eight Braves a-bumbling,
Seven fans a-tortured,
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Ten Fists a-pumpin,
Nine Phillies flailing,
Eight Braves a-bumbling,
Seven fans a-tortured,
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Eleven pitchers dealin’,
Ten Fists a-pumpin,
Nine Phillies flailing,
Eight Braves a-bumbling,
Seven fans a-tortured,
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my Giants gave to me
Twelve Machines a-struttin,
Eleven pitchers dealin’,
Ten Fists a-pumpin,
Nine Phillies flailing,
Eight Braves a-bumbling,
Seven fans a-tortured,
Six fearsome beards,
Five splash hits,
Four Giants starters,
Three Garlic fries,
Two rally thongs,
And a catcher named Buster Posey!

Thanksgiving – Remembering to be Thankful

26 Friday Nov 2010

Posted by route53 in Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, San Francisco - Leaving your heart

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cancer, Jill Costello, lung cancer, san Francisco, Sports Illustrated, Thankful, Thanksgiving

“When you’re down on your luck, you gotta do it,” –
Andrew W.K.’s feel-good song Got to Do It
 
After my wife found she had cancer a couple years ago, Thanksgiving took a different meaning for me.  I felt guilty that it took her illness for me to appreciate the holiday for what it is, but I do now take the time to remind myself and my kids about how thankful we should be at this time of year for what we have rather than next month when people start wishing for what they don’t have.  Tonight I sat on my brother’s couch after dinner, half napping as the tryptophan kicked in.  Fighting the lure of a nap, I picked up the recent Sports Illustrated and started to read an article about Jill Costello, a local girl from San Francisco with a big heart who graduated from the University of California at Berkeley this past Spring and as the coxswain for the women’s rowing team, led them to second place in the National Championships.

Jill Costello - former Cal rowing star

I had read briefly about Jill back in May in the local newspaper after I heard about her through the UCSF Medical Cancer newsletter that my wife gets. Jill had been diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer although she did not smoke.

Although I hadn’t kept up with her story, as I read through the article I felt myself tearing up.  I knew what was coming.  I looked over at my wife smiling and laughing with my family and felt truly blessed.

Thanksgiving is truly THE family holiday of the year.  It isn’t long enough for most people to travel far  away.  It isn’t about presents or religion.  It is about celebrating your place and those around you and being thankful  for what you have.  Sometimes hearing stories about the loss of others who really are special people reminds me of this.

I want to give a special thanks to my friend Donald Wilhelm who we lost this year.  A good guy who inspired many and left us too soon.  In the article in Sports Illustrated: The Courage of Jill Costello, we read a great story about another inspiring person who can teach us to appreciate what we have today.  Although the article did not mention it, Jill lost her battle after graduation, but her strength inspired many to give more than you receive.

As her coach so succinctly put it at Jill’s funeral, “There are givers and there are takers, and you want to be more giver than taker. She never complained. She gave far more than she ever took. She was an inspiration to all of us. I hope when we face something as daunting as this, we can show some of the courage that she showed.”

True Fan or Bandwagoner? In San Francisco it doesn’t matter.

11 Thursday Nov 2010

Posted by route53 in Route 53 - Life is A Highway, San Francisco - Leaving your heart, San Francisco - Sports & Life

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49ers, Giants, san Francisco, Warriors

“The triumph of this team allows us to flash back and connect to our past, to experience the beauty of our memories and shared experiences with unbridled joy. This day is a blessed reminder of a dream fulfilled for all of us” – Larry Baer, Giants President speaking at the San Francisco City celebration of the Giants championship

Orange October

It has been over a week now since the Giants took the baseball world by surprise.  In fact, for many die hard fans who have rooted for the team for at least more than a decade, it took them by surprise too.  The shock is just wearing off.
 
Having had the chance to bask in the orange glow of San Francisco’s first World Series Championship, everyone who has closely followed the Giants is now realizing the true impact of the accomplishment is bigger than a stadium filled with 35 thousand fans during the dog days of summer.
 
The Giants parade was littered with converts (bandwagoners to those who sport Croix de Candlestick pins from the days of watching baseball in the ice cold winds of Candlestick Park.  If you don’t know what a Croix is, good look it up).  Converts who couldn’t name the whole starting lineup for the Giants.  Converts who couldn’t tell you who are the 4 Giants greats with statues erected outside of AT&T Park. Converts who now own well over $100 worth of brand new Giants merchandise.  Converts who know who Mark Zuckerberg is but not Bill Neukom,  but that is okay.   By the way, my 8 year old daughter can tell you all about the statues.
 
A parade of champions is not the same as a Christmas Day parade or a New Year’s Day parade.  Most parades are for people on the side to watch the spectacle of the parade.  A parade of Champions is different.  It is for, in this case, the Giants, to see how wide an effect they had on people.  For them to see beyond the walls of the stadium.  For them to see how crazy they made people.  A chance for them to see all the crazy people they converted into fans.  Their biggest public audience…..over 1.5 million people (estimated) lined the mile and a half route, the same route taken by Willie Mays and the Giants when they first arrived from New York.  This was not a parade for one team.  This was a parade for 53 teams and 53 years of long-suffering.  One can only imagine what will happen when Chicago and Cleveland win their next World Series.
 
During the stretch drive of the regular baseball season, my family and I sat in front of some elderly men and screaming high school girls.  All the girls could talk about who was cuter, Buster Posey or Barry Zito.  The men were questioning about having a rookie catcher  was a mistake.  My 8 year old daughter looked at me, ready to say something and I had to tell her that it was okay. “But they’re not REAL fans, Dad,” she said.  I was proud of my daughter for her aptitude, but I was also glad to see more people enjoying the Giants. true, it was hard to listen to for a diehard fan during a pennant drive, but baseball can not live on die hard fans alone.  If that were the case, AT&T Park would be empty.
 
San Francisco is a melting pot.  Being a San Francisco “native” is such a novelty.  Only 37% of the residents are even born in California and 35.5% aren’t even born in the US.  What shocked me even more is that in my son’s class recently 19 boys signed up for lacrosse while only 11 signed up for baseball which indicates where “America’s past time” sits with the families living in San Francisco.  There are few legacy Giants fans in San Francisco. These 2010 Giants had to earn new fans and recruit them  through more than a history lesson.   They needed to tell their own story.  And they did it the San Francisco way.  In many ways they represented the city and its crazy mix of citizens.   If you didn’t like the story of the hero old guy, the star young pitcher, or the wacky reliever, there was a human interest story somewhere on the roster that you could relate to.
 
What was more important and maybe something we all could take a lesson or two from is that this was the right team to represent San Francisco and bring it it’s first World Series Championship.  Like the 1981 49ers and the 1975 Warriors, each team that brought San Francisco its first championship in their respective sport was made up of underdogs.  Each team did it as a team, with unsung heroes and a style that made them distinctive.  The ’75 Warriors some consider to be the least talented team to win the NBA title, but they played like a team.  The ’81 49ers showed the NFL that the “West Coast Offense” would bring a whole new schema to the game of football.
 
Winning builds community and that is what all these teams did.  The Giants have written the latest chapter and the city still is awash in orange a week later.  People feel guilty still talking baseball when football and basketball are being played.  It’s okay.  At least we’re talking.  Some satirists joked that the Giants parade was much bigger than the Gay Pride parades in San Francisco.  I think it just proved that San Francisco is a real baseball town. It proved that San Francisco has a way about doing things with style.  Finally, it proved that teamwork breeds a great community atmosphere.  Long time fans and bandwagoners partied equally hard, and partied together.  In San Francisco we are known to be accepting of all types of people (except Dodger fans)..so welcome aboard the bandwagon.

53 Years of Torture Over – World Champion San Francisco Giants

02 Tuesday Nov 2010

Posted by route53 in Route 53 - Life is A Highway, San Francisco - Leaving your heart, San Francisco - Sports & Life

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baseball, Giants, journey, life, parenting, pasttime, san Francisco, torture, World Series

It breaks your heart.  It is designed to break your heart.  The game begins in spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.  ~A. Bartlett Giamatti, “The Green Fields of the Mind,” Yale Alumni Magazine, November 1977

For 53 years and 53 teams, baseball broke the hearts of San Franciscans, but tonight an improbable team ended years of frustration and enhanced the love of a sport and 25 guys who worked as one.  As their management and the team tried to convey, the victory was for a city, for fans, for past players and for past generations.  The atmosphere has been electric for the last month.  You could feel how badly people wanted this one and perhaps needed it.

Torture was the word of the year to describe this team, but  it really wasn’t one year.  It was 53 years.  A team of underdogs, a team of misfits, a team that nobody ever believed had a chance, was the team that everyone fell in love with.  The team with a rich history of Hall of Famers had its most  successful season with a bunch of no-names.  In the future, many will not remember some of the names that helped to bring San Francisco it’s first baseball championship.  As I mentioned previously, the City of San Francisco loves its champions, but more they love their champions who do it the right way.  The 2010 San Francisco Giants did it the right way.  There will be many who say they knew this team had it from day 1, but if they tell you that, they are liars.  A team of misfits, discards from other teams, showed the world what teamwork is all about.  They have said repeatedly this post-season that the most talented team doesn’t always win.  It’s the team that plays the best that wins.  As late as the beginning of August this team was in 4th place and 7 or 8 games out of 1st place, but the team showed how baseball is a parallel to life.  You work hard, you keep grinding, and you never stop believing.

Nick and I Fear the Beard!

As a San Francisco native I am overwhelmed.  There are hundreds of thousands and perhaps millions of natives who grew up in the same generation as me, who had moms or dads that introduced them to baseball at Candlestick Park or Seals Stadium and had to wait their whole lives.  Everyone has their own unique story.  There are many people like me who wish the dad that introduced them to the sport were here to enjoy and celebrate with them.  Yes baseball is just a game, but it is America’s past time.  It is like life itself.  Unlike those in New York who have 27 Championships, this is San Francisco’s first.  For those who have waited their whole lives for this day, it is a day to be savored.  Hopefully it won’t be 53 years until another championship is won.  Those who had seen things go wrong in the past know the heartache and how sweet this victory is.  This will not be taken for granted.  It will be cherished.  It will be savored.   The team itself reminded everyone of the history of the organization.  It reminded those not old enough about the heartaches of the 3 previous attempts at the World Championship.  It reminded me of the great history of San Francisco, and it reminded me of all the great things the City has to offer.  The team helped me to teach my son about all the great history and people that built this City.  My son saw Joe Montana, Bob Weir, Steve Perry, Danny Glover, and a slew of other celebrities from the area cheering for the team just like him.  Somewhere around the 7th inning of Game 2 he started to grasp the gravity of the situation and understood the passion around the desire to win the whole thing.  A World Series victory would be the beginning of a big healing process.

There is an old adage in baseball that as Spring Training begins, hope always springs eternal. No matter what I am always optimistic about the Giant’s chances.  This year I wasn’t.  I really felt this team didn’t have what it would take.  It shows how life is so unpredictable, how what is perceived could also be deceiving.  Baseball and life are unpredictable and just when you least expect it, it will serve you up a surprise.

Growing up watching Mays, Marichal, Perry, Cepeda, McCovey, Clark, Mitchell, Speier, Fuentes and all it is amazing this team has accomplished something that those other teams couldn’t.  No heroes, just a bunch of blue collar ballplayers.  Fortunately for me I was able to share a little bit with my own son and helped him to understand how unique an experience this is and how unique this team is.  Attending the last game played at home and also participating in the Opening Ceremonies of Game 2 of the World Series was not only a unique experience, but it was the creation of a memory that he will keep forever.  Having my son tell me, “I will never ever forget this day” was a highlight for me.  I remember when my dad took me to see Ed Halicki’s no-hitter back in the late-70s as if it were yesterday.  I know my son will be thinking the same even 30 years from now.

Carrying the US Flag

It is only fitting that Edgar Renteria, a player that is at the end of his career and contemplating retirement was the MVP of the series.  He spent many months on the bench, has a torn muscle in his arm, yet was one of the many heroes in the end.  Hard work, determination and a never say die attitude, were Edgar’s message to all.  It’s one we should all learn to employ in life.

I am speechless to say the least.  I am more choked up than anything else.  The memory of all those who never got to see this day, but taught us to love this team, this City, and the game of baseball would be proud of the 2010 World Champion San Francisco Giants.  They were not only a team of destiny, but true deserving champions in every sense of the word.  A team of misfits who fit perfectly together.

As I write this, there is honking and hollering in the streets.  The younger generations are celebrating in the bars and dancing in the streets, but I know there are many like me also sitting at home with not so dry eyes thinking of those who never got to see this but helped us to appreciate this moment.  They taught us how to “love the laundry” (as Seinfeld calls it).  Such a bittersweet time in San Francisco.

The much maligned announcer, Joe Buck, said it best….”America’s Most Beautiful City now owns Baseball’s Sweetest Accomplishment”.

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