As vs. Rangers May 28th

Warms the soul, doesn't it? Even the sponsors push you away.

I can't say enough about the Oakland Experience. I was fortunate to find a train from San Fran to the ballpark. That was about the extent of the goodness. Sadly, I was genuinely looking forward to the game, as I am a big fan of Moneyball and wanted to see the team in action. What I experienced was dissapointment at every turn. I pity heavily the diehard A's fans who stick wth their team while they endure being put up in the miserable situation they've got. The foul areas are large enough for an entirely seperate ballgame to be played there. The seats are, for lack of a better word, caddywompous (I think that is how the word is spelled). They face the field at all sort of different angles. The scoreboard was small and awkward. The fish and chips I ordered seemed to be fried into one gigantic uniform ball. The concourses are reminscent of a prison or my high school's hallways, and the entire environment was as bland as the concrete exterior greeting incoming fans (excluding the numerous panhandlers also greeting the fans). Isn't it bad enough that the team is in the AL? The final straw of the night was when the As faced a golden save opportunity, and I remarked to a Georgia grad* I happened to sit next to when I'd snuck in behind home plate that at least I was going to get to see Houston Street pitch. Which I would have were he not on the DL. You may be thinking that there were no highlights, no beams of light, redeeming qualities about this experience, and you'd be close to correct. The runner up FotG wins simply for his resemblance to Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber.

The winner? ME, for catching a fly ball after sneaking down to home plate seats. Ok, I didn't have to sneak because there were barely enough people in the game to merit opening the gates, and I didn't exactly catch the ball, moreso had it smack my hands, ricochet off the stairs behind me and by the grace of God roll back to me. At least it didn't hit me in the face. Go me.

*Fan claims to have graduated in 1978, but said he was in school when Hershel was there, won the Heisman, and the National Championship. I didn't have the heart to debate him into the ground in front of his friends. Or expose him for the fraud that he oh so definitely is.

Giants vs. Rockies, June 2nd

San Francisco is, in many ways, Bizarro World. Nothing there is like it seems. Men love men, and Vice Versa. The city is built with the air of Europe about it. Their baseball team has a ballpark on the shoreline of the ocean, yet the game in the last weekend in May was absolutely freezing. Lastly, for some reason, the people there absolutely adore Barry Bonds. I don't understand it, but I'll be damned if I wasn't there cheering him on with the rest of them as he knocked home run 746 out of the park. Although many people may agree with the first statement to follow than the second, Barry Bonds would have to be an idiot to leave the oh so literal friendly confines of AT&T Park. I will say that Bonds is the only player aside from Warren Sapp to so flagrantly flout his front lip dip. Although I don't think anyone can beat the entire can Sapp still sticks in his gigantic lips.
As for the rest of the park, aside from some cheesy Disneyness in the outfield kids area, it was one of the better places I've been. It would have been a lot better if I weren't curled up into the fetal position praying that the game would end so I could find a warm spot to regain feeling in my toes (it went to extra innings). This doesn't come close to the crazy men in kayaks in McCovey's Cove waiting for a home run ball, no doubt losing their own in the process.
Lastly, the Fan of The Game. The Angels have the Rally Monkey. There is the inside out upside down baseball hat. For the Giants, there is the Rally Pumpkin--a true man among men, unafraid to induce the crowd into a frenzy with his pom pom shakers and wild gyrations. Unashamed of the shape of his body, nay, embracing it for what he is, and the super creature he has become. Spawn of the Great Pumpkin, embodiment of a Great Fan, I present, the Rally Pumpkin.


Every year the Rally Pumpkin rises out of the most sincere Ballpark, and gives homeruns to all the boys and girls.

San Francisco

My trip through Chilly California continued with a weekend in San Francisco. I was lucky enough to get put up in a great spot in the Nob Hill part of the city, and even luckier to have gotten a parking spot on the street next to where I was staying. Parking spots in a San Fran are more difficult to come by than cheap places to rent, apparently. In most places I've stopped, I've had to pick a spot, walk the two or three accessible street near my car, and then drive somewhere else. Not in San Fran. In addition to being near the Chinatown area, the entire city is set up like most European towns, with townhouses stacked tightly together on top of tiny, intimate shops. This makes for fun walking, since there is always something to see instead of walking by a Wal-Mart parking lot for 1/2 a mile. My first night there, after taking in the Giants game, was spent wandering throughout the city, watching a fun band with a wild saxophonist, and avoiding the Cougar who was hunting me.
I spent some time the next day in the Marina Area, where I found the Musee Mecanique, which contained old contraptions from ages ago that you could play for one quarter. What kind of contraptions you ask? Well, for your amusement, and to save you the fifty cents it cost me, I've posted them in video form below, along with the one homeless man I've seen in all my travels that knows how to earn his keep, aside from the rest of the San Fran bums, who just build pillow forts in the middle of the street. What I couldn't get a video of was Ramses answering my question by spookily nodding his skeleton head.

After my inner child had been placated, briefly, I got to explore the town with my friend Taylor, who has been up in the city for a while now. He took me through the parts of town I couldn't walk through, or wouldn't want to, and also set me up with a great meal from one of the thousands of Taquerias. I swear, this place had some of the best salsa I've ever eaten, this coming from a Texan who ate salsa out of the bottle as a babe.

My last impression of the City by the Bay was at Zeitgeist, a San Francisco Bar where I definitely stood out. Not for my flaming heterosexuality, as many people (myself previously included) think that the city is one gigantic silk hankerchief, but rather for my polo shirt and tattooless skin. Bike messengers city wide congregated here, and the hard rock music seemed to screech as my Vineyard Vine shirt entered the door. Despite it all, I still managed to enjoy my Anchor Steam beer, and got to catch up with Taylor, and am very jealous of his getting to live here. Congratulations San Fran, you've taken the lead in my "Favorite Cities" list.