I posted this back in 2010 just before the SF Giants won the World Series. Seemed appropriate to post it again considering that they won again! Woohoo!!! So here it is:
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It was a beautiful summer Sunday. My father had promised that we would go to Candlestick and watch the Giants play, my first memory of seeing a live professional game. It was probably 1965, and I was perhaps 6-years old, so my memory of details could easily be mistaken. But I think they were playing the Dodgers that day. Or at least I want to believe that.
To my dismay, we had to go to church first. Church got out at noon, and we left soon after, and I remember being nervous about missing the first inning because the game started at 1 PM. We did arrive late, but the timing of our arrival was like a Hollywood script.
We showed our tickets as we entered and I could hear the crowd noise through the tunnels. It was obvious the game had started. But did we miss the whole first inning? We walked through the tunnel, and I looked up to see the scoreboard. Bottom of the first. Two outs. I did the quick calculation … that meant … yup, there he was, standing at the plate with a bat in his hands. Willie Mays.
I stood still on the steps as my father headed to our seats. I was transfixed by the “Say Hey Kid”. The greatest baseball player ever and already a legend. Nobody played with the skill Mays had. Home runs, average, RBI’s, steals, incredible base running, a cannon of an arm, and the best defensive center fielder ever. The only two who might come close were Joe DiMaggio or Mickey Mantle, but even they called Mays the greatest. I’m sure my mouth was open in awe as I watched him stand there at the plate, casually swinging the bat in anticipation of the pitch. I vaguely remember my Dad urging me to get to our seats. But I remained motionless. Then the windup, the pitch, and that incredible one of a kind swing … BAM, the ball was gone. Willie had done it — a home run. What a great time to show up for the game!
Batting fourth in the lineup, my other great hero strode to the plate. Willie McCovey. I remember being awed at how big he was. How strong he looked. McCovey took a few pitches, and then WHAM … that huge long body of his unfurled like a coiled snake and just smacked the ball. I couldn’t believe how far it had gone. I’d never seen anything hit that far in my life. To this day, my memory measures all other home runs to that one. None of them can match the memory of an impressionable 6-year old. Best of all, the Giants were up 2-0 in the first inning.
What a great time to arrive for a baseball game!
I don’t remember much else about the game. I was buzzing after that first inning for weeks. And I’m sure the memory has grown as time has passed. But one thing was clear; I had become a baseball fan. And Willie Mays was my favorite player.
