Angela is a documentary filmmaker who is working on a film about a nomadic Israeli family, and is also the co-host of a podcast called Bitch Talk. We met a few weeks ago when she, Jeff and Erin stopped by my seats to say hi. I haven’t listened to Bitch Talk (Booze and Interviews Straight from the Heart of San Francisco) yet, but only because I haven’t had the time. Judging from how animated Angela is, though, and how much she has to say, I can only imagine that it is worth listening to. Angela is a little bit of a whirlwind, and we touch on and leave behind so many subjects that I don’t really even have time to take notes.
Sometimes I come back from an evening of company at a game with a couple of pithy anecdotes or a good line that someone zinged out, and sometimes there’s no one easily explainable thing that can define the conversation. Sometimes I have to just find something else to write about, because “…and then we talk about pets for awhile” just doesn’t carry any dramatic weight. “Then we talk about our dead moms for a while” does, though. Angela and I had, it turns out, just about identical experiences during COVID, moving back to where our moms lived to take care of them in their last days. This is not 81hospices.blog. though so I will just say that it is our joint recommendation, me and Angela, that if your mom is on her way out, go take care of her if you can – if you can get there, if you have the time, if you can stand her. We don’t really pay attention to the first couple of innings because we are busy saying things like “Me too!” and “Oh god yes.” Also, we don’t really pay attention to a lot of the rest of the game either, because It Just Doesn’t Matter.
We are in junk time.
Just before the game starts, we are pleasantly surprised by Javier, my season ticket representative, who stops by with the too-small Bruce Lee shirts from a few weeks ago and another of last night’s UC Davis caps for me, and who, after finding out that I gave my Mandalorian Funko Pop away to a little kid on Star Wars Day, brings me a replacement, along with a Gryffindor stein for Angela. I swear, if I told Javier I needed to watch the game from horseback in a hot-air balloon directly above the scoreboard, he would find a way.
The game today is a tight one until the end, when a 2-2 tie breaks open with three San Diego runs in the top of the tenth, for which the Giants have no answer. There’s still a .500 record to play for, though, and the potential to finish third in the west instead of fourth. Small potatoes, but still potatoes. To get to .500, they will have to win all three against the Dodgers this weekend, which seems…unlikely, even though the Giants are still playing hard, not just folding up and playing out the string. Thairo Estrada, who is Jeff‘s favorite player, hit a home run in the second inning. It is important to note that Thairo is Jeff’s favorite player because Jeff is here tonight; he is the reason I know Angela and may one day feature me on his podcast. I didn’t expect him, but he is very welcome. You may remember that his pregame ritual is a beer in the Public House, so he heads off to do that while I go pick up today’s special event item, the Portuguese Heritage watch cap.
Erin, Jeff’s wife, was going to come tonight as well, but had some back trouble, so Jeff joins us in the 415 and sticks around for most of the game, which seems to be unusual – Jeff is a man who likes to keep moving, or at least it seems that way at baseball games. We end up in the 415 in the seventh with Angela’s friends Kym and Ruby, a mom and daughter who have left a twin sister at home tonight. Watching Ruby have a good time is a delight – she’s one of those kids who never stops.
I have concluded this year that although the 415 is a nice place to visit, and I enjoy it for a few minutes every time I go, it is ultimately a place for people who want to party and hassle the visiting pitchers rather than a place to enjoy the game. We end up in my seats again for the last out. Looking over this post, it seems kind of haphazard and scattered, but that’s mostly the Angela whirlwind. It’s nice to have a night like this at the end of the season – I could see the atmosphere being kind of moribund, but Angela and Jeff definitely salvaged it.
On BART on the way home, I got involved in a discussion with a Dodger fan about the new rules, and about some old ones. He asked what I thought of instant replay, and I said I didn’t mind it; he was opposed, vehemently, and his argument against it was the same as mine against robot umps and the computerized strike zone – that baseball, where every home field is slightly different, with different ground rules, is inherently imprecise in a way that no other American professional sport is, and that the frustration of the occasional bad call or umpire having an off night is part of the game and should be embraced rather than legislated away. That, in short, “to explain a magical thing is to rob it of its magic,” and furthermore, if every call is perfect and every strike zone is consistent every night, what will we talk about later? I got on the wrong train deliberately so I could keep the discussion going as long as possible, and I think he ended up convincing me.
What Did You Think of the Evening, Angela?
“What started as enjoying a simple baseball game became a very cathartic (and surprising) therapy session. I guess when it comes to sports, you really never know what to expect, both on the field and in the stands. 10 out of 10, would do it again 👍🏽“
81 Dates 