Last weekend I went to San Francisco to watch my Giants face-off against the Cincinnati Reds in the first game of the Major League Baseball Playoffs. As I headed out the door on Friday I told Heather she should be worried because, if the Giants win the World Series again this year (as they did the year Annie was born), that would pretty much seal Annie’s fate as a future Giants fan and NOT a Dodgers fan. Heather smirked and said, “I’m not worried. They’re not going to win the Series. And it’ll all be your fault.”
“My fault?” I sputtered. “What are you talking about?”
“Every year the Giants have been knocked out of the postseason, you’ve gone up for a playoff game. The only year you didn’t go is the one time they won the World Series.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“2003? Knocked out. 2002? Knocked out. 2000? Knocked out. 1997? Knocked out. You went to games each of those years, yes?”
“It’s not my fault they lost.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Heather said as she closed the door.
On the drive up I stewed over Heather’s teasing, but had to acknowledge she might have been on to something. I’d also attended Giants’ playoff games way back in 1987 and 1989, and the boys in orange and black were knocked out in those years, too.
Saturday was game day, and my Dad and I arrived at the stadium early to make sure we didn’t miss any of the pomp and ceremony. That’s one of the neat things about the playoffs – a lot of cool things happen that don’t happen during the regular season. For example, an incredible military band played the National Anthem:
….and both teams lined up on the baselines for player introductions:
Our seats were in the top deck – a little higher than we normally like to sit – but we were okay with that because playoff tickets are hard to come by. The top deck ended up being pretty great, actually. Not only was the view of the harbor beyond the stadium walls incredible, complete with gorgeous sail boats and the sun setting over the water:
…but we also had a terrific birds’ eye view of the game. Here was the first pitch:
The Giants looked sharp in the top of the first as they shut down the Reds, so I sent Heather a boastful text reading, “Was THAT my fault? Booyah!”
Unfortunately, after that things took an ugly turn and the Giants ended up losing 5-2. They, uh, also lost the second game, this time by the embarrassing score of 9-0.
The Giants are now one game away from being knocked out, and can only avoid elimination by winning the next three games on the road. For the record, none of the 22 teams in baseball history to be down two games to none have ever come back to win the division series. So…. yeah.
My Dad and I took a photo after the game, and I must say I’m impressed we were able to smile through our depression:
On the way out I tried to buy Annie some playoff garb, but they had nothing in her size. Since I’d promised her a present, I instead bought her this the next day:
She was crushed. (yeah, right!)
I’m now home, and yes, Heather rubbed it in a bit. The thing is, I’m wondering if it IS all my fault. The Giants play again tomorrow, so Giants, try to win, will ya? I promise I won’t be in attendance to foul things up!