On Hating Giants Fan

Something that I kept meaning to write, but have mostly whiffed on this week due to Fox and Cablevision conspiring to make me not care about baseball (Nice job, guys!)...

I realize that the national perspective of Philly Fan is one of the most negative in the country, and that we (they? It's not like I live there, really... aw, hell, we) frequently live down to it. But we aren't the worst fan base left standing. In fact, we're not even the worst fan base in the series. Yes, I'm looking at you, Giants Fan...

I know of which I speak here, people. I lived with Giant Fan from 2000 to 2006, in the height of the Bonds Era, perhaps the greatest feat of collective municipal myopia this side of Germany in the 30s and 40s. As things went from bad to worse to unspeakable, and gravitational wells developed around Barry's Enormous Head, Giants Fan just clasped him to their bosom all the more. As the team also went from a collection of mildly intriguing and clutch talent to a walk-free, flat-out terrible offense despite the Ruthian exploits of the centerpiece... well, Giant Fan just kept on coming to their sweet little jewel of theft and lies.

Meanwhile on my side of the Bay, the A's were almost always a better team, and received about as much attention as a minor league team. Even something as simple as getting a radio signal of the A's game was tricky, but you could hear the Giants stumble to their pointless pace from space.

And the attendance matched it as well. Going to Pac Bell? Never a problem to get someone to take the ticket and pay for the price. Going to Oakland, a much easier commute on the BART train, a much cheaper night in every way? Good freaking luck finding someone to go with you on that one. The A's were the team with championships in this lifetime, 90+ win clubs with adorable young players, a farm system that kept churning out A-level talent (pitching, at least), the annual playoff runs and 20-game winning streaks. The Giants had Bonds and their stadium, a 5 to 1 edge in attendance, and a 50-to-1 edge in media coverage.

It Rankled.

So did Giant Fan, to be honest. Before handheld phones were everywhere, Giant Fan was texting to the point of simmering rage, usually on dot-com money that made the whole Going To Pac Bell experience seem like some part of the amusement park that you weren't allowed it. Parking cost nearly as much as my entire evening in Oakland. And you got to also hear about how bad the Dodgers were, and how much Giant Fan hated the Dodgers, and Tommy Lasorda this and Tommy Lasorda that.

Basically, they are Red Sox Fan West, only not as dedicated. (Yes, I said that, Giant Fan. When your team loses, you go home to live in one of the most beautiful parts of America, where snow is simply an elevational phenomenon, the product is always organic and lush, the wine is almost as nice as you think it is, and the women are second only to SoCal in terms of per capita quality. When an East Coast team loses, their fans go home to stare at the walls for six months. It's not really the same.

So I honestly do hope the Phillies win the NLCS in seven, and that there are at least three to five (more) heart-breaking defensive failures and/or tragic moments for Giant Fan to endure. For Bonds, for the price, for their unconscious insufferability, and for embracing as much bad karma as any team ever (the whole stealing a team thing, Juan Maricahl nailing a guy with his bat, Humm Baby, Keith Mitchell, Will Clark, Dave Dravecky's crushing injury, Dusty Baker nearly getting his kid killed, Bonds and all the rest... you deserve pain. And lots of it.