Swept

A year ago or so, I told Nancy, "I hate baseball. It's boring." But Nancy is a long time Giants fan and in the blush of new romance we went to a game together. It was after a storm and the view was magnificent. Being the cheapskates were are we brought our own snacks. We laughed and talked through the whole game so we ended up going to another game, and another... about one a month. Some of those damn cold nights with gloves and hats. Some of them exceedingly beautiful late afternoons of sunshine.

Meanwhile I watched the Ken Burns' Baseball and read a couple books (Psychology of Baseball, and Why is the Foul Pole Fair?). I learned how to score a game.

Scoring a game was, perhaps, almost the tipping point for me. I kept me busy instead of bored and I learned the game (and the scoreboard) a lot better.

Of course, Tim Lincecum was the first player I learned. But I started to have a slight name recognition of some of the others (U...ribe! Panda, etc.).  I wasn't that impressed. But on Posey night we got free shirts and I learned a little about this amazing kid.  Then Huff, who at the time, seemed like a washed up old player given a last chance. I wore my Posey shirt to work.

The end of the season seemed on the horizon and then we could get back into our routine of Monday Night Football. Wallgreens had discounted all its Giants gear (picked up some Lincecum tokens for .99 cents) and no one seemed very interested in the Giants chances of winning the division.

Well, it was a bad year, a terrible year, to hate baseball. I was certainly caught up in the playoffs. But I hate to call myself a fan. Fans are those who have been following the team for two or three generations. Who can cite statistics from the 50's and name names. I'm just along for the ride.

Yes, we celebrated by driving around town screaming and honking the horn and dancing and chanting in the streets with the throngs. It was all so very very exciting. (Actually, it was a hell of a weekend with Halloween, Giants WS, Day of the Dead, and the victory parade.) Suddenly Giants gear was everywhere and everyone was (and still is) wearing it. I don't know where they were all summer. I didn't see so much gear at the games!

And yes, I watched (but didn't go to) the parade. And cried and felt proud for these guys.

But I'm not calling myself a fan. Part of me still hates baseball. OK, I like/love the Giants. I like the players and their stories, the mythology. Posey, Huff & Burrell, Rentaria, Torres, The Beard... Guys I wouldn't have recognized on the street before the playoffs. But I am not a fan.

P.S. I already got my tickets for next season. Let's Go GIANTS!