Tonight is the first time I’ve gotten to sit with a Hall-of-Famer. It’s Jess, who plays for a team here in SF called Meow Mix and was just recently inducted into the San Francisco Gay Softball League’s Hall. It’s the oldest softball league (I am told) in the world, which is pretty cool. I haven’t seen Jess since before the pandemic, but she seems about the same. She makes sure to tell me that it’s only a local Hall of Fame, not the national one, and that it was mostly for general contributions to the league, but it’s still a Hall of Fame. Does she have a shot at the national HoF? “No,” she says with a laugh, “You have to have athletic ability for that one.”
It is a beautiful night for baseball – for anything, really; even by the time the evening is over, it’s probably still sixty degrees out. There’s a moment when a breeze kicks up, but only a moment. You couldn’t ask for a better evening – it’s Polynesian Heritage Night, and the dancers from the Manuia Polynesian Revue do not look cold at all; even when I go up to get the Polynesian add-on, a very nice t-shirt, it’s not cold on the third deck.
It’s the second T-shirt of the night – the 415 was giving away a Flavor Flav-themed shirt – it’s (bizarrely) one of the most elegantly simple giveaways this year, at least in terms of the design – just an orange clock face on a chain, with the hands at 4.15. No SF logo, just the 415 on the sleeve. I’m more likely to wear the Polynesian short, especially since the Flavor Flav one will remind me of having to listen to Flavor Flav “sing” Take Me Out to the Ballgame, which was…well, pretty much what you’d expect, except that you’d figure he would know the words.
Jess points out, well over halfway through the game, that we only have three hits from two players, and that that isn’t going to work out for us in the long run. Logan Webb gave up a run in the first inning, and the Giants – in spite of constantly putting men on base – haven’t done much to answer; Webb has settled down and blanked San Diego since then, but something has to spark the bats. Maybe down in the dugout, someone mentions that if the Giants lose this game, that’s the season – one more loss means we’re mathematically eliminated; in the eighth, there’s a sudden surge, and we get two runs, and Webb comes out for the ninth to finish the complete game. Disaster is staved off for one more night.
I forgot to take a selfie with Jess. I asked for one later, via text, and she sent a picture of her which is immeasurably better than the ones I take.
What Did You Think of the Evening, Jess?
“It was a great night at the ballpark catching up with you, my friend and former colleague. Hard to believe it was our first game together since before the pandemic! The weather was perfect, Webb was almost perfect, and the Giants came from behind for the win!“
81 Dates 