Today, There is Crying in Baseball.
The final out of the final game . . .
This week, we attended the final game that the Oakland Athletics would play in Oakland. After giving up the season tickets that we had for decades, this was the first, last, and only game we attended this season.
Without spending too much time on the details, the Oakland A’s, after more than 50+ years in Oakland, are leaving for Las Vegas (After a three-year stopover in a 10,000-seat minor league stadium in Sacramento). And while many would blame the fan base for not showing up, let’s be clear . . . owner John Fisher and team president Dave Kaval manufactured the crisis by creating a terrible fan experience, refusing to pay to keep good players, and playing games with the city of Oakland about a new stadium.
Yes, professional sports are driven by money and played by the wealthiest of the wealthy. Still, those of us who are fans agree to this relationship as long as there is respect and honor that we are spending our dollars to irrationally pretend that we are part of the team. Like all fanatics, Oakland A’s fans had endured most things: terrible food (though my doc is probably glad for the end of the Helmet Nachos), trades that didn’t work out (hello, Matt Holliday), the myth that we HAD to play Moneyball (when there was plenty of money to be spent), the loss of an unending stream of MVP caliber players (Tejada, Simien, Giambi, Donaldson, Olsen, and on and on) and even rebuilding years that extended one more year after year after year.
At the end of the day, the departure of the Oakland Athletics and the hubris and obliviousness of owner John Fisher is what happens when unfettered greed is spoken out loud.
So Thursday, September 26, 2024, was the last game at the Last Dive Bar in Baseball, and we were there. We started by tailgating with a few thousand of the Oakland Faithful and ended by sitting in the stadium, soaking in the surreal nature of this being the last time we would be there to watch our A’s.
Here are a few shots from outside and the inside of The Coliseum. Damn, I’m getting weepy all over again. Okay, hold it together, Bruce.
The Amalgamation is made possible through your financial and viewing support, so please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
John Fisher and Major League Baseball will not live rent-free in our Oakland A's memories because we are grateful for the Green & Gold.
I have been an Oakland Athletics fan for as long as I can remember. My Grandfather was an A’s fan, so I am an Oakland A’s fan, so my family are Oakland A’s fans. My kids have attended games from birth to adulthood; our hearts have been broken in the post-season time and time again; I can’t count the number of walk-off games we have witnessed; we have said goodbye to our favorite players; we have watched rookies become superstars; and we have devoured more than our fair share of Helmet Nachos.
We saw players — great, terrible, and colorful: Bash Brothers, Stewart, Mulder, Zito, Hudson, Giambi, Olsen, Eckersley, Henderson, Chavez, Lansford, Cespedes, and so, so many more.
And despite the manufactured nature of all, we experienced Money Ball firsthand.
Day games by myself.
Birthday week with games every day.
One of the first independent outings for Eldest and Middle turned into an 18-inning marathon against those terrible Yankees (middle photo below of survivors)
The buskers on the bridge.
Our family can never hear Careless Whisper without thinking of Josh Reddick.
And speaking of the Yankees, this is where we taught our kids the difference between “sports hate” and “real hate” as we allowed them to join in the time-honored classic,
Yankees Suck!
Yankees Suck!
Yankees Suck!In 2002, we went to a bunch of the wins during The Streak.
We went to spring training as a family, seeing baseball more up close than ever before. Pro-tip: bring your kids to Spring Training because they will get autographs before the adult memorabilia dealers.
My kids learned the game's subtleties: the joy of a player making their debut, the beauty of a pitchers’ duel, and recognizing a first-rate fan heckle.
Short kings (by MLB standards): Billy Burns, Tony Phillips, Mike Gallego, Tony Kemp, and Nick Allen!
We ate baseball food, none of that fancy bougie stuff that shows up in some parks these days: garlic fries, beer, cotton candy, chocolate malts, and did we mention the Helmet Nachos?
And my own individual best memory that has made me insufferable whenever we see 70mph show up on the board, because I can still hit that.
There are so many more, but above all, I cherish the hours and hours of family time en route and during the game spent together talking about life, love, struggles, and all with the backdrop of the best-kept field in baseball.
There is no way to capture all the memories, but here are just a few. Dammit, tears, cut it out.
Yet, we are GRIEVING over the end of decades of emotional and financial loyalty to the Oakland Athletics Baseball Club.
The picture above masks the tears of two of my kids as they took their final looks at the field they have known all their lives. Youngest was back at stupid college, but she took the day off and watched the game from her apartment.
Because of all the memories, so many individuals and families like ours now feel used and abandoned by a team we gave our hearts, souls, voices, and our money to for decades. Growing up in San Francisco, all of us had to deal with being bullied and blasted by Giants fans . . . that is until it was just no fun piling on the Oakland faithful. Pity support is the worst.
Again, we did not abandon the A’s; greed took them from us.
As I sat in my seat, trying not to be pissed (We will get there), I thought of my Grandfather and how his heart would have been broken. The team of Bert Campaneris, Rollie Fingers, Sal Bando, and Reggie Jackson was no more.
As the final out was made and words were spoken from the field, people embraced and wept. On this day, there was plenty of crying in baseball.
The Amalgamation is made possible through your financial and viewing support, so please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
And finally, Being so Pissed Off at John Fisher that Major League Baseball is Now Dead to Us
I refuse to let anger win the day, but we were not the only ones pissed:
The MLB let this happen, approved the move, and again, showed the true nature of wealth and greed when it comes to supporting those who have helped them build up their wealth in the first place. Yes, the fans were hurt, but the workers have also been treated terribly, with some being let go after decades of service without severance or healthcare after the last game.
It really is despicable.
With a great sigh, all of my non-Oakland A’s gear has been packed and put up in the attic. When I say that MLB baseball is dead to me, until the time comes when the A’s come back with new owners or there is an expansion team, we are done with the MLB.
So what’s next? We are not done with sports and not even baseball. We love the new independent league team, the Oakland Ballers. We went to a bunch of games this year, and it was so lovely to watch baseball without resentment about the money we were spending. We are also all-in on Women’s soccer *shocker* as we transferred our A’s ticket money to Bay FC and The Oakland Soul. Heck, we even went to a few San Jose Barracuda games this year. No, we still love watch sports, it will just not longer be Major League Baseball.
So there you have it. The end of an era. One more time.
Let’s go Oakland! *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*
Let’s go Oakland! *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*
Let’s go Oakland! *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*
I know this is not the first and will not be the last time sports fans have their hearts broken by the realities of wealth and greed, but for the Oakland faithful, it definately hurts.