San Francisco Giants vs. Seattle Mariners
Safeco Field, July 18, 2006
I was raised in Pacifica, California, about ten miles south of San Francisco. I can't really remembermy first game, but my parents said we went to a lot of Giant games at Candlestick Park when I was young and I had no reason to doubt them. Parents don't lie, right? The year everything fell into chronilogical order for me was 1971, the year both the Giants and the Oakland A's both won their respected West divisions and both were dumped in the League Champinship Series of their repsected leagues. I do remember going to many games that year and always going with my father and then maybe mom and my brother. Through this, I became a Giants fan. As I got older, I became a fan of many teams but because they were my first, the Giants became my passion. I feel everybody should have one team that is their passion. I may be wrong, but it at least starts some good conversations.
It always galls me that when my dad wants to talk baseball with me, it's always about the Mariners. "That's my team!", he'll declare. I bring up the Giants as I was growing up or the Seals that exsisted prior to the Giants' arrival from New York in 1958. What about San Francisco's only original team, the 49ers? Heck, dad, you claim to be from Yakima. How about the Bears of the old Northwest and Pacific International leagues? "That was a long time ago." he'd start and then maybe mention Y.A. Tittle, Orlando Cepeda, and the name of the old Yakima ballpark. Baseball was in our lives before 1977, I'd proclaim. "Look, son," he'd say drawing the bottom line, "I'm a Mariners fan now."
My past was a sham. Thanks, Paul Shipp Sr.
Over-reacting? Maybe, but what about my poor psyche? Geeze.
Dad had mentioned to me sometime in April that he caught a glimpse of the Mariner schedule for this year and saw that the Giants were coming to Safeco Father's Day weekend. Maybe we could catch one of the games. About a month later, I went and bought tickets to the game on Saturday. Too late. My brother had already asked dad to go with him and his family to the game on Sunday. "I just can't do two games in a row, son." I understood and thought it would be no big deal to get someone else to go to the game with me on Saturday.
Not only could I not entice anybody to go with me, I was getting offers from other people to go with them! "Hey Giants fan!", is how the phone messages would start. I ended up selling the original tickets I had bought and sat in really good seats on Saturday. My friend, Scotty, had a buch of tickets that was dumped into his lap for Sunday and I decided to go to that game also.
There was a method to my madness. Could never get enough of my Giants, being one reason. The other would be to steal away from Scotty's entourage for a moment and possibly find my brother's party and wish them a quick Father's day salutation.
And on Sunday, that's just what I did. I excused myself from Scotty and somehow found my nieces and nephews on the 300 level, who led me to my brother, and then to my dad. Dad seemed very suprised to see me and quite pleased also.
But then came the boos and jeers from the people sitting in my brother's section. Curses came my way. Comments of Barry Bonds and accusations of steroids were hurled at me. My sister-in-law glared at me. I motioned for them all to pipe in now for the Giants would make them pay lat
Did I forget to mention that I wore, as I always do to all Giants games, my custom made 1972 San Francisco road grey jersey with the wonderful # 44 on the back? Willie McCovey, baby!
"Why are you a Giants fan, Uncle Paul?", asked my one niece. "You should be a Mariners fan, Uncle Paul." ,declared the other.
I explained to them the life we Shipps had before Washington state, listening to Lon Simmons on the radio, my love for the orange and black, and the simple fact that the Giants were in my blood just as the Mariners should be in their blood.
But they were persistent. How could I be for the enemy?
That's when Paul Shipp Sr. spoke.
"I used to take your father and uncle to a lot of Giant games. Almost every other Sunday. they got to see some of the great players in the game at that time. Plus, the Giants had Willie Mays, Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry, Hal Lanier, guys like that. Your uncle was crazy about Willie McCovey, probably the best first basemen ever. We went to Candlestick a lot, didn't we boys?"
My brother and I nodded. Dad and I smiled at each other.
After the second inning, I said goodbye to everybody so I could rejoin my party. I put my hand on dad's knee and wished him a Happy Father's Day.
"Thanks for stopping by, son. Hope your Giants win.", he said.
"Thanks, dad."
A nice day indeed.
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posted by paul shipp @ 6:58 PM
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