Reflections on the Bay: A Final Word on Baseball and the 2010 World Series

A sports column by Brendan Flannery

It may have taken a few days but it finally set in when Mike Krukow, one of the voices of the San Francisco Giants, said it: “We’re the Giants. We’re San Francisco. And we are World Series Champions.”  


San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom holds up the key to the
 city before awarding it to Giants managing partner Bill Neukom


The ecstasy probably should have hit me on Monday night after the Giants clinched the city of San Francisco’s first World Series Championship EVER. It didn’t sink in until Wednesday afternoon however, when Krukow finally opened my eyes and told me how to lift the burden I was carrying off my shoulders.
Up until then I have to admit, I had been wallowing in a selfish regret that I had not been home to watch my beloved Giants hoist the hardware. The Giants playing style had been termed torture, but the past weeks of this 2010 playoffs had been torture for me in a completely different way: Despite living in the SF Bay Area my entire life, watching countless games at the freezing Candlestick park and more recently at the majestic Pac-Bell Park, I moved to Minnesota this September to pursue a career.

Since then, all I wanted was to be home to celebrate the Giants' historic run with my fellow fans but tragically, I was anchored down by the time commitments of my new job. It became quickly apparent that I would not be able to make it home for any of the Giants WS games and after the Giants clinched in five games, the hope that I would be able to make it back for the Wednesday parade died quicker than a Tim Lincecum change-up. The biggest celebration for the biggest win of my favorite team...and I was stuck over 2,000 miles away.

Still reeling off the lingering memories of Edgar Renteria’s three-run go ahead home run and Brian Wilson’s final strikeout, I’d be lying if I said I was disappointed. After all, my favorite team did just win the World Series. I would also be dishonest though if I didn’t say that deep down I was saddened to be alone with nothing but phone calls to let me revel in the victory. I was killing myself over the fact that I wasn’t there; it was like being stranded on an island and missing a once-in-56-year-chance to be seen by a boat.
As Krukow addressed the million-plus crowd at the Championship Parade though, he reminded me where my love for the Giants lies and in doing so, reminded me why baseball, of all sports, is most special for its fans. He spoke of “the Giants story”, and how it was up to us fans to feed the story on to all who would hear: A team with the most members in the Hall of Fame wins a World Series without any superstar like a Mays, McCovey, or Bonds. Giants torture became a Giant catharsis.

A cable car replica tour bus transports
 the Giants during their victory parade.

As I listened to Kukow in my lonesome, I smiled in joy like a parent watches their child reach the pinnacle of success, clapped and cheered like one of my fellow fanatical fans that were back home. My tension over my homesickness disappeared into thin air like a Roy Halladay pitch hit by Cody Ross.

I realized that the spirit of baseball is not present in any tangible location. Teams move and stadiums change. Baseball lives in the hearts of its fans wherever they may be. What other sport is as familial as baseball for its fans? What other sport gives its fans the opportunity to view their home team 81 times a year for a price that can get as low as a few bucks? What other sport has tradition that traverses over generations and creates community-wide families the way baseball does? No other sport comes close to reflecting the feeling of “home” like baseball does.

Period.

Krukow awakened me to the fact that I am a part of the Giants because they are always a part of me, just like a piece of that beautiful city by the bay is with me even in frigid Minnesota. Being here or there means nothing when it comes to being able to tell my Giants story. The same bodes true for any baseball fan in any city. Baseball simply has a way of getting inside you whether you just won a World Series or were left licking the wounds of a horribly disappointing season, somewhat like a Dodger fan probably is right now...

No matter where I go in life I will always be able to retell the 2010 “Giants story” like I was there-- heck, it’s my story anyways; maybe I’ll just say I was there. It sure feels like I was the whole time.