The Lens:
I am a huge San Francisco Giants fan. Growing up, it wasn’t Dad who was into sports. I don’t recall him ever showing any interest in professional sports. It was my mom who was the crazed sports fanatic. She had two teams: the Cal Bears and the San Francisco Giants. She would listen to their games and scream at the radio.
(Back in the day, games weren’t televised. You listened to them on the radio. I have very fond memories of backyard BBQs with the Giants on the radio. But, I digress.)
I love those GEICO commercials about becoming your parents. It is never fun when you realize that has happened.
I have become my mother, only I scream at the TV. My sons constantly give me a hard time about this. My youngest loves to recount coming home one day to hear a guttural groan from inside as he came up the front stairs. His take . . . the Giants must be on and the game isn’t going well.
I remember when the Giants won the NL West Division title in 1971. One of my classmates was allowed to bring a transistor radio to school, listen to the game during class, and call out significant plays. It was a big deal.
We won that series but lost the next round – the NL playoff series. It would only be one of many defeats I have endured as a Giants’ fan.
Back in the late 70’s, early 80’s, the Giants were terrible. We’d still go out to Candlestick to take in a game. One advantage to a team that stank was seats were cheap. There were games I went to where there were 1,200 fans in a stadium that seated close to 70,000.
They got better and we made it to the World Series in 1989 against the Oakland A’s across the bay. A bad omen for the Giants came when the first game of the series at Candlestick was about to begin and the Loma Prieta Earthquake struck. We lost the series.
Then, we just plain lost the World Series in 2002.
These were heartbreaking defeats. Every game of these series’ were fraught with sky-high blood pressure on my part and a letdown of monumental proportion.
So, when the Giants went all the way in 2010, I was in a state of delirium. That enthusiasm didn’t wane in 2012 or 2014.
Then came 2021. We barely eked out the National League West Division title, winning the most games ever in the Giants’ history in the regular season. The dreaded rival, the Dodgers, had only won one game less than us. They went on to win a wild card spot which they prevailed.
This set up the match for the League title between the Giants and the Dodgers as the series of the century . . . and we went down in defeat.
The Refraction:
Another crushing defeat . . . sort of. For baseball, especially post season, the games came on rather early. Still, watching to the end of the game required staying up past my bedtime on a work night.
I spent those evenings running around during the commercials trying to get all of my evening chores done (e.g., next day’s lunch and clothes together, coffee ready) so I could jump straight into bed when the game was over.
I made sure to turn down the lights late in the game and take deep breaths to keep myself calm. Miraculously, I was able to sleep when I finally got to bed.
The thought of doing this for the next few weeks, though, was terrifying. I could feel the exhaustion coming on before it really began.
This last week, one of the teachers in my school popped into my classroom and commented how tired she was. She is quite a bit younger than me, so this was not a matter of age.
I have said before, pandemic teaching is exhausting. While this year is far better than last, it is still incredibly draining. I’m not sure I had it in me this year to go through a World Series run.
This took me back to the days of being a little league mom. I couldn’t possibly count the number of times I drove my boys to sports practices and how many games I attended.
Over the years, we had our share of going to the playoffs. It was always exciting for the kids and, as parents, you want to see them end up on top of the heap.
Sometimes they did . . . and everyone was ecstatic.
Sometimes they didn’t . . . and secretly I was thanking my lucky stars. I never wished for them to lose. But if they did, there was a (glaringly) bright side – all of the running around was over. I got my life back.
In the big scheme of things, these are just games. For the kids, there was a moment of sorrow. The next day, all was forgotten.
For the Giants, these are not just games. This is their profession. I am sure there are significant monetary perks that come from taking the whole enchilada.
For me, though, like those little league games, they are just games. There are no life changing perks or losses based on whether we win or lose. I never thought this would happen, but I became that bad little league mom who was thanking my lucky stars that I got my life back – which I desperately need right now.
I feel some guilt over this. We baseball folk are a superstitious bunch. Did I cause the team loss by my lack of an all-in attitude toward winning?
I know the answer but the question remains.
Still, I do have my life back. And I am thrilled for that.
But (stealing a line from Indiana Jones) . . . the Dodgers? Why’d it have to be the Dodgers?