For Whom To Root??? Giants Giants Giants

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No predictions or number here, just the odd romance of rooting for a team not your own. I watched the Giants for two years after college when I lived in San Francisco, my days of restaurants, wine country, the earthquake, Matt Williams and Will Clark. If one moves to San Francisco, all the civic pride of the city gets under one’s skin almost immediately. One night while waiting tables, one of the guests at a table wore a diamond brooch, “49ers” on her black cashmere coat. She was about 90 years old.

Although I have taken another mistress in the Phillies, the Giants were my old fling flame. As you know, I am married to the Red Sox. So I cheat every now and again. Let’s be honest here. I love baseball and sometimes the boundaries are blurry. The other night when the mutant closer, Brian Wilson, was warming up and the microphones for tv picked up the bullpen, the delicious smack of the catcher’s glove sang through the air. I love that sound in Autumn.

My heart sank and my stomach felt wretched as I watched Ryan Howard get stuck and stung by a slider he had seen earlier in the at-bat. It was great pitch but also one he has hit before and hit long. I thought, that’s it, no more baseball for me. As Lucinda Williams sings, “I know it’s over, but I can’t let go.” Let’s go Giants.

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