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When my pal Katie asked me if I wanted to go with her to see the Giants World Series trophy, it seemed like a good idea. I like Katie, it’s the World Series trophy, she just had ACL surgery and has trouble getting around, etc.

When I got on line today outside a bar in the East Village around 2:30 and waited in the freezing cold for the next hour, surrounded by Giants fans in black and orange, it seemed anything but a good idea. Goddamn, but there are a lot of San Francisco transplants in the New York metropolitan area. All of whom decided to suit up and head down to a bar called Finnerty’s on 2nd Avenue, which is a 49’ers bar, but who also has an enormous orange SF painted on the front door, with “2010 WORLD SERIES CHAMPS” in type the size of my head.

It was a little overwhelming.

First of all, I was a fish out of water. I wasn’t there wearing Mets stuff – I’m not a douchebag – but I got there before Katie and her roommate arrived, and could not be instantly chatty with anyone else in the line. Everyone else had a hat or a sweatshirt or sneakers or a jersey under a winter coat or black and orange feathers in their hair or something that was Giants-related. Everyone else was happy to high-five anyone who ran down the line yelling “WOOOOOOOOO”. Everyone else was falling over themselves to get in the shots being filmed by the guys from the Giants web site. Everyone else was happy to wave at the guy who practically fell out of the taxi driving by, yelling “GO GIANTS!!!” when he saw the line.

I couldn’t even agree with the guys behind me who were excoriating the dude in the Brooklyn Dodgers hat who was on line about 10 people ahead of us. If it had been a vintage hat and he had been there with his dad or his uncle or something, no problem, but the hat still had the sticker on, and he was standing with a guy wearing a Yankees hat. (As TBF says, “There’s always got to be one.”)

Tip o’ the hat to the Giants organization for making the event run smoothly. There were a lot of people there. It was very cold. They walked down the line explaining “This is a photo op!” and to please get your photo and go out of the bar. They let some VIP’s in first, but even that was dispatched with quickly. We were told that we could take photos as we approached the trophy, but that the photos of us with the trophy were to be taken by a professional photographer. (This would turn out to be not 100% accurate, and I appreciated that.)

As we approached the trophy, we were surprised to be greeted by none other than Bill Neukom (who, as I like to point out to TBF, is a fellow Microsoft alum) wearing an orange pin-striped shirt and an orange and black bowtie. I took photos of the girls with him. When it was my turn, I shook his hand and congratulated him, but explained that I was a Mets fan.
“Well, enjoy the trophy, it’s yours too.”
By that I assumed that it was in the National League, but I was not exactly in agreeance that it was my trophy.


Katie posed with the trophy, Laree posed with the trophy, but I did not pose with the trophy. “What? You’re not going to get your picture taken? You waited all that time in the cold!” I shook my head no, and helped Katie find her coat and get out of the bar. As we left, they were handing out buttons, and I decided given the design, that I could rightly take one. I was reminded that one of the only decent fan interactions I had at AT&T last July was when the guy behind us lectured some heckler wannabes that the Mets didn’t “steal” the Giants logo, that it was deliberately chosen to keep history alive and make people happy.


I had decided that I wasn’t going to get my photo taken with the trophy about the time we entered the bar. It wasn’t my trophy. I didn’t even get a good shot of the trophy solo – too many people, too crowded, and me not wanting to be a jerk about it. It was cool to see the trophy in person, but it was more like a giant sigh as I stood there looking at it. I don’t hate the Giants – there’s a lot of things I like about them – but this was definitely a party and it wasn’t my party. I think that most of me wanting to come see it was wanting to do something that was baseball related, and this was the closest I could get right now.


How many days until pitchers and catchers? Maybe we’ll find a reason to go to Cooperstown. This offseason is killing me.

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