Billy and I left Carmel last weekend and drove to San Francisco to see a Dodgers/Giants game at AT&T Park. We had talked about doing this for awhile, and I kept eyeing the tickets on the Giants' website. Giants were not doing well when I first started looking. Then they started winning, and the tickets disappeared. Seriously, standing room only at a stadium! Although, having now been to that stadium, I realize there are a lot of pretty cool places to stand -- like by the giant Coca Cola bottle, or over by the cable car. Or anywhere along the terrace that runs above the part of the bay, now known as McCovey Cove, where there are fanatics in kayaks and boats hoping to fish for a home run ball. And, by the way, I don't hesitate to admit that this is a beautiful stadium. But that doesn't mean I'm willing to stand around in it for nine innings. So, I bit the bullet and purchased exorbitantly expensive tickets on StubHub -- this after my friend and dentist (yes, my dentist is my friend) said, oh, just do it! Somehow that admonishment, as well as increasingly thinking that we can't take it with us, enabled me to purchase two pretty darn good tickets on the first baseline. They were on an aisle, and under the overhang. It was a day game.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Billy and I left Carmel on Friday morning, and drove up on the coast road to Half Moon Bay. It was a blindingly stunning, bright and sunny day. We had lunch at Half Moon Bay Brewing Company -- splitting a red snapper sandwich and each enjoying a pint of ale: Billy's pale; mine amber. We checked into Hotel Vitale at the Embarcadero around 3:00, dropping off our one duffle in the room, and crossing over to The Ferry Building, which was almost directly across the street.
The Ferry Building is where the commuter Sausalito and Vallejo ferries dock. It's also a collection of restaurants and specialty food emporiums. After buying one(1) kitchen towel, and splitting a coffee gelato, we arrived back at the hotel and were plunged into one of the most outrageous bar scenes I have ever encountered. Evidently, all those in their thirties, mas o menos, who work in the financial district collect on Fridays at the indoor/outdoor bar at our hotel. There were packs of youngish men in suits with loosened or pocketed ties, and women wearing grey or navy dresses or skirts-with-jackets and achingly high heels. Luckily, we nabbed a table, ordered martinis and enjoyed some very good tapas, including the Stone Fruit Bruschetta. It wasn't Kaya Toast (see: The Acid Test, available here while supplies last) caliber, but it still achieved light-up-your-eyes tastiness.
Back in our room, we discovered, with NO END of chagrin that the Dodgers/Giants game was blacked out. So we set out in a panic to find a local bar with a TV feed. Some kind soul at Perry's (which would have been the best choice for viewing, but they were closed for a private party) sent us down the road to Palomino, where, in the company of Giants' fans, we watched the Dodgers lose. Again, they were all Giants fans --- all except us. We maintained fan allegiance anonymity, spending a lot of time whispering (me) and muttering (Billy).
The following day, we checked out of our hotel, leaving our duffle and car in their care, and walked along the waterfront to the stadium. It was another crystal clear sparkling day with temps around 65. Stadium was amazing -- right on the water. We ended up in a little knot of Dodgers' fans, where we could see Vin Scully in one of the press booths. The Dodgers fans in front of us, two couples, were c-r-a-z-y. They snuck in a pint of Malibu Rum which the two women were liberally using to spike their Coke. The guys were more mellow and drinking beer. At one point, one of the women (we'd all made friends, Dodgers fans that we are) turned around to me and asked: Are we going to have Victorino for more than this year? I responded that I believed he would be a free agent after this season. Good, she cried, Because I HATE his ass! Harsh (and a bit rum-fueled), but they were actually a lot of fun. They would shout Let's Go Dodgers, while all the Giants fans nearby would wait until the last word then yell GIANTS in a relatively good-natured manner. Meanwhile we sipped Sierra Nevada and cheered. And the Dodgers won. We drove back to Carmel that evening, stopping for dinner on the way at a Mexican restaurant in Moss Landing.
The next morning, I got up, and went to Mass at the Mission. Among my serious prayers for my mom, Billy, Sandra, and our friend, Keith, who just lost his father, was one for the Dodgers. More of a brief fleeting wish that our boys in blue would continue to win in a streak; something we haven't seen for awhile. This went unanswered, as they have lost more games and are now dangerously close to being out of contention in even the wild card race. I'm beginning to feel much like my friend Susan who has been saying for decades: I'll give them one more season, but if they break my heart again . . .
Meanwhile, I decided to redirect my energy and throw some more money at this. I paid twenty-five bucks to MLB.TV so that I could watch home and away Dodgers games (which are not televised here in Carmel) on my MacBook, with Vin Scully announcing all of the games where he is available. If my hopes and dreams for a wild card triumph disapparates in a continuing downward spiral created by their serious lack of offense, they will owe me twenty-five bucks! Although, seriously, I'm still grateful for their winning game in San Francisco, even if our twenty-four hours there cost us about a grand. Seriously. It was well worth it, as it was a Visa experience: A Dodger win in San Francisco? Priceless. Whatever baseball colors you are flying, I thank you for reading my blog. But, Go Dodgers!
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