golfkat Travel Blog

The Giants and Dodgers moved to California in 1958 as I recall.  I went to my first game in the summer of 1959 at Seals Stadium, 16th Street and Bryant, in San Francisco.  Seals Stadium was very small, seating about 20,000.  It was right in the middle of a bunch of breweries, like Falstaff.  It was also a pretty rough neighborhood.

My Aunt and Uncle from LA offered to take me and a friend up to San Francisco.  They were going on a night club tour.  My friend Phillip and I would go to the game that night.  We were actually going to stay in San Lorenzo with his relatives.  We even dropped our clothes off there, and headed into the City with my Aunt and Uncle.

They checked in to a Motor Lodge, actually only a few blocks from Seals Stadium.  I think it was called the Franciscan Civic Center Motel.  As things happened, we decided we would try to get seats for the game, and stay with my Aunt and Uncle in the motel room.  So, after a dinner, who knows where, we got in line for bleacher seats outside of the left field pavilion.

As I recall, the wait was not long.  Everyone was talking about this minor league sensation, Willie McCovey, since he was hitting over .400.  We were able to buy two seats, and proceeded to watch the Giants take batting practice.  I do not remember who they played that night.  But they were in the National League pennant race, but did not have much pitching, other than their ace, Ruben Gomez.

During BP, several players hit the ball over the fence to our general area.  One ball came really close.  It hit someone in the aisle, then started rolling on the floor toward us.  I missed it, but Phillip was able to grab it.  Unfortunately, he grabbed it at the same time as the kid next to him.  His parents prevailed and he had to give the ball up to this snotty kid.  What a bummer.  Our first big league game, and we should have had a ball.

Anyway, we saw a great game, but the Giants lost.  McCovey got several hits, and it was fun to watch this big guy hit the ball.  We stayed to the very end.  I do not know how late it was.  We were told to take a cab back to the motel.
But neither of us had ever done that before, so we walked back.

The motel owner was shocked that we walked back in the dark, through a bad neighborhood, at the age of 11 or 12.  We got into the room, locked the door, and fell soundly asleep.  Sometime that night, my Aunt and Uncle came back from their tour.  As they tell the story, they could not get in since I had pressed a button that prevented the key from entering the lock outside the door.  They had to get the manager, take a window apart, and get in that way.  We missed the whole thing since we were sound asleep.!!!

While they were not upset with us, we did hear about it the next morning.  I guess they tried to wake us, but we did not hear them.  All was forgiven, when they took us to the Cliff House for breakfast.  We got to see the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time.  We drove through Golden Gate Park.  It was a glorious day.

Fast forward to today:  There is always some of that boyhood excitement when attending a game.  Even when our home town boys are not having their best season, we still enjoy the ballpark, the food, and the game.  Getting to go with my brother is special, a reminder of all the games we attended with our Dad over the years.

I recall we often took a bus from Kingsburg, up to the ball park.  It was a Moyers bus, who remembers that?  We always stopped at Fisherman’s Wharf on the way home for dinner.  It was a very long day, but the excitement of seeing a game made the day very special.

When our Dad drove us to San Francisco or Los Angeles, it was even more special.  With four kids wanting attention, having a day with our Dad for ourselves was special.  And we always got to stop somewhere fun after the game for a nice dinner.  While we were not rich, getting to stop at a fine restaurant was a real treat.  We learned to sit at a table in a nice restaurant, and behave like little gentlemen.

Living in the central valley, it is a much longer trek to the game.  When I lived in the east bay, it was merely 45 minutes on BART to SF, and a transfer to Muni to Third and King Street.  I often went to games at the last minute back then.  Now, it takes some planning.  Or in this case, a gift of two tickets from one of my brother’s high school friends.

Many times, the highlight of our visit to ATT is the crab sandwich, out in centerfield.  We add a beer, and just revel in the atmosphere of baseball, the City, seafood, and the cool breezes of San Francisco Bay.  Our team will definitely not make the playoffs this year!

While this may not be another “even” year miracle, we will enjoy the game.  Maybe we will see a star of the future, like Austin Slater, or Derek Rodriquez.  Or maybe we will just sit in the cool breezes of the Bay, thinking about how warm it is back home.  While we will not see Willie Mays or Juan Marichal, we both remember the old days with our Dad.  Thank you Dad for introducing us to sports.  We miss you every day, but even more, on days like this!