Tonight is the second Star Wars night of the year, but honestly you could be excused for thinking maybe the Giants had thrown one Star Wars night and then a Mandalorian night. Sure, there are a few troopers from the 501st, a couple of desert-robed Tatooine people, a princess Leia here and there, and DJ Umami spends a few minutes in a Chewbacca mask (DJ Chewmami), but for the most part, it’s the Mandalorians who are really representing. Some, like the one getting funky in the seventh inning dance break, are fully caparisoned and all in; others are less committed – I lose track before long of the dudes who have worn their Beskar helmets on top of, essentially, sweats. I mean, I guess that’s a way too? Maybe the economy or the pandemic have affected these people too – the helmet is the piece you have to have, but the rest of the armor is maybe at the pawnshop, or there’s not enough work to afford any more pieces.
Right inside the gate, Heather is ready for a crab sandwich; thanks to Jess Jess, I know exactly where to take her, and we end up in the seats almost immediately; a tour will come later. Heather used to go to games with an ex in San Diego, but hasn’t been here, or to any other professional games, for a long time. This is probably one of the best Giants games of the season – a 9-1 romp that starts with a two-run homer in the first inning – but we spend almost none of it in my seats; instead, we take the long tour and meander around. Heather apologizes for taking me away from the exciting innings, but the truth is, as always, that I am here to spend time with my guest. If all I wanted was to watch the game, I could do that at home, and 99% of the best experiences are things that happen off the field anyway.
Case in point: when we come in the gate, we get the night’s giveaway, a Mandalorian (of course) Funko Pop toy that Heather thought, prior to taking it in hand, that she was going to give to her boyfriend, but decides immediately that she loves and will treasure forever. It’s cooler than I thought it would be, and I’m really glad she’s had a positive experience right off the bat, because she is not a baseball girl, and an evening game at Oracle Park always has the potential to be miserable. Anyway, a couple of hours later, while we’re ambling around the park, a woman with a ten-year-old-or-so Tatooine native in tow comes up and asks if I’d be willing to sell my Mandalorian toy for twenty dollars so her kid could have one, and it gives me great joy to say “No,” which she expected, and then “But I would be willing to give it to him for free,” which she definitely didn’t expect. The look on the kid’s face. I should have taken a picture. I told my friend Jordan once that I had realized, after a similar experience, that my new goal in life was to be an eccentric millionaire who wanders around overhearing what people want and then making it happen and not asking for compensation or thanks, and they said “You know you already do that, except you’re not a millionaire, right?” Still, #goals, I guess.
The Giants score seven more runs while we’re taking a tour of the park and looking at food options; I don’t think I’ve ever missed more scoring or cared less. Some nights I might wish I had been in my seat to see it, but the sheer elation of speculating about the possibilities of a Mandalorian Nacho Helmet takes away any retroactive FOMO I might have felt about not seeing all the action. Truth be told, I feel just the tiniest bit of resentment at the Giants for scoring eighteen runs in two games after being so appallingly bad over the previous week. It belongs in the Alanis Morrissette song about things that aren’t actually ironic – just maddening. Sadly, all the nachos on offer tonight are just in regular Giants helmets. We resolve to come back next year with our own helmets and demand a New Order.
Heather and I are on the same page about some things, like marriage proposals on the Diamond Vision screen, but after the game, she offers an opinion that I can’t dispute but also don’t agree with: that loyalty to something that is likely to move on and leave you behind – teams occasionally, players often – is…maybe not foolish, exactly, but at least incomprehensible to her. If she were more of a sports fan, I’d guess that having lived in San Diego and seen the Clippers and the Chargers leave might have something to do with that, but I doubt that’s relevant. Anyway, she’s not wrong, but I can’t quite put my finger immediately on why she’s not right, either. The closest I can come this evening is to say that we allow Harrison Ford to be Han Solo but also Indiana Jones and don’t resent him for moving on from the franchises we love, but that’s incomplete at best; I also essay a Ship of Theseus metaphor – that the team my dad loved in 1960 has nothing to do with the team I love in 2023, but it’s still the same team – but that lacks something too. All I can call to mind is the way my sister loves former Mets, wherever they go. Maybe it’s a great thing that we can still feel for the players who have gone to greener pastures, remember the great things they did, or just the brief moments they were with us, even if they weren’t pivotal players.
Heather also offers up the opinion, while watching the “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” victory video on the big screen, that after losses we should get to see a video about the virtues of the city that beat us, which is a pretty funny idea except for how many times we’d have to watch videos about Los Angeles.
What Did You Think of the Evening, Heather?
“I enjoyed everything about the evening and was surprised at how quickly the time flew by. I loved discovering that my crab sandwich was named for a reviled former mascot. I was overjoyed at the sheer absurdity of Star Wars cosplay at a baseball game, and if there had actually been Mandalorian helmet nachos, I would have purchased them at twice the price.
And although I don’t think I’ll ever understand professional sports fans, now I have a Giants scarf and I feel like somehow now I’m really a Bay Area girl despite living here for 10 years. If there’s another Star Wars night, I’m in.“
*As much as I would like to, I can’t take credit for this joke; it was Heather’s boyfriend.