Bicycles, baseball, life

At the Public House before Game 1, NLDS

Some weeks ago—seven, maybe eight; I've lost track now—I tripped on uneven pavement while carrying a basket loaded with clean laundry and dislocated some bones in my right foot. The extent of the injury took a while to determine, but it's now clear that surgery is needed to put it right again. In the words of the old philosopher, crap! Meantime, I've been limping around and not able to ride my bicycle because the foot was so swollen. But the swelling has diminished (though not the pain, thus the continuing limp), and this October weather is so beautiful and so perfect to ride in that this morning I said, the hell with it, I'm getting on the bike and I'll pay whatever consequences arise. So, for the first time since Aug. 21, I was rolling again.

And it felt wonderful. Weather warm, breezy from the north, and I took the dump road and had a lovely ride. Saw three hawks, big guys, and two previously quite large but presently very flat coyotes (poor things). I scarcely cracked 14mph, but every mile felt terrific. And the foot didn't bark, and it still feels OK, so maybe I'll make it, after all.

I needed that ride after last night's crushing loss to Atlanta by the Giants. (The injured foot hasn't kept me from going to the games, though anyone who says crutches are glamorous or fun, I want to speak to said lunatic. Especially on BART.) Thursday night's game was such a gem, with Lincecum striking out 14 batters and looking like he could have kept pitching for another hour or so, that last night's game was a HUGE tub of ice water over the head. But that's baseball, and if you want to see the game as metaphor for life, that loss is just another example of how the game is the great leveler; that no matter how high you get with a win, or two, or four in a row, sooner or later the loss will come. The encouraging coda: The wins will come again, too. It's just one loss.

We had a good time, though, hanging at the Public House before the game, meeting new people who are instant friends because, well, hey, we're all Giants fans.

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes, it rains. GO GIANTS! Praying for a win tomorrow . . .

Public House, Game 2, NLDS, with new friends the Blackwelders:

mom Lola, sibs Casey and Jamie

A happy day

Today has been a happy day. Happy as in, I’ve had a smile going all day long and it’s not showing any signs of fading before the day comes to an end and I fall asleep, still happy. What has brought this on? Did I win the lottery? lose 10 pounds? (hah!) hear the Tea Party has been dumped into Boston Harbor? No, something much sweeter and long-lasting—yesterday, the Giants clinched the National League West championship for 2010, and I got to be there to experience and share in the joy. Joy made manifest by a team that all season long has teased, thrilled, and tortured me and all the rest of their besotted fans.

I’ve been a baseball fan all my life, but for much of it, my fan-ishness has been pretty casual—pay mild attention during the season, get to a game or two (or most likely, none), and when the season is wrapping up with the World Series. This year, I’ve been with them all the say, every game, seemingly every pitch—all 162 games.

I know it’s only baseball. It’s a meaningless activity compared with real life and the day-to-day grind. But watching and reading about politics, the horrible, hateful Republicans, Obama’s futile attempts to bring compromise back to governing, war, death and destruction, did nothing but make me anxious and depressed, whereas baseball, though it often makes me anxious and depressed, is, in the end, still baseball—a beautiful game played by talented, spirited, and amazing young athletes who are just a treat to watch and each of whom has his own interesting, quirky, inspiring story.

So the Giants will now play Atlanta Braves for a shot at the National League Championship. I have no idea how this will all turn out, and I have no doubt that there will be torture involved before we’re done. But today was about not thinking ahead. Today was about enjoying being a fan whose team has accomplished what it set out to do. It took them all 162 games to do it, but really, how perfect was that? I hope I get my voice back by this Thursday—I’m going to the first playoff game. And tonight, still, I’m going to bed happy.