It’s Not About Baseball

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About 30 years ago Davey and his dad walked into Candlestick Park for the first time. They had just moved up to the Bay Area, and they were there to take in a San Francisco Giants game.

Will Clark, Robby Thompson, and Matt Williams were all on the field, and Davey was hooked.

About 30 years before that, my father-in-law, Scott, had walked into a stadium with his father to see the New York Giants play.

Willie Mays was on the field, and Scott was hooked.

Two nights ago, Davey and I walked into AT&T Park with all four of our children. We were there to see the three-time World Champion San Francisco Giants play.


Buster Posey, Hunter Pence, and Brandon Crawford were on the field, and although the kidlets were already hooked, they now love it even more.

As we sat there and ate garlic fries, yelled along with the bleacher chants, and danced to Steve Perry, I couldn’t help but think about the history of this team and our family.


Davey and I went to games together before we had kids. We went when I was pregnant, and when J was an infant in a backpack. When the older boys were 5 and 8, they collected cans and did odd jobs to earn money to go to a game and buy souvenirs.

Not too long after that we moved away from the West Coast. Although we caught the Giants on the road a few times, we had not been back to AT&T Park.

Until now.


The kidlets had once again done special chores to earn money for souvenirs, and we made sure to enjoy every moment of the night.


The Giants didn’t win. But that’s okay. Because that night wasn’t about baseball.

It was about family. And connections. And history and tradition.


It was about dancing and yelling and cheering.

And it was about being together, sharing something we love.


Go Giants!

See you soon.













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