Most Idiotic License Plate Ever

I saw this a week or two ago, possibly during the Giants 2012 post-season run and thought it a ridiculous idea for a license plate.  The frame says “World Series Championships.”  The plate says  “LA5 SF1”.  I saw the plate again this morning — apparently the owner lives in my neighborhood.

Anybody want to hazard a guess as to why this is the most idiotic license plate ever?

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It was me … No, actually, it was Jennifer

I don’t believe in God.  Or religion.  Magic.  Or ghosts.  All that hocus pocus, irrational, unexplainable stuff.  Give me good old-fashioned logic, rational thought, and common sense any day and I’ll be happy.  Well, except for this.

Guest Blogger, who shares my believe in the rational and logical, marvels at the one chink in my common sense armor.  I am the most superstitious of sports fans.

Shortly before the end of the regular season, the SF Giants had a Pablo Sandoval Garden Gnome give-away.  My friend, Jennifer, and her boyfriend went to the game.  They both got a gnome.  She gave me the extra on Saturday when we met for the Bob Dylan concert.  Pablo stayed in his box in my car until tonight.

Yes, on Monday, on my drive home, I thought of the best way I could contribute to the Giants success in Game 7 of the NLCS from the comfort of my own home.  You see, I have the power to affect the outcome of baseball games being played 100 miles away.  If I sit in a certain position, wear certain clothes, engage in certain activities — I have the power.  I thought Monday evening of busting out Pablo, but chose not to.

I kept it simple Monday night.  Sitting in our front room with my Giants sleep pants on.  Fooling around on my computer.  But, I sat in the same spot the entire game, except for beer runs … and the accompanying pee runs of course.

Success was achieved.  I contributed to their win.

So, tonight.  I’m driving home from work, thinking “what can I do?”  You got it.  It was time to bust out the Pablo Sandoval Garden Gnome.  I took him out of his packaging and set him on the floor next to me in the same spot I sat in on Monday.  Got my Giants sleep pants on.  Got the laptop humming … blogging this, blogging that.

And, well, I’m pretty sure you can agree that the results of tonight’s game prove my point.  I have the power!!!

OK.  Maybe not, but let me believe it for just a few moments in the deliriousness that is a World Series Game 1 victory for the Giants!

Remarkable

It’s simple.

Two years ago, my lifelong love affair with the Giants culminated in their World Series victory.  I didn’t get to any of the post-season games that year.  Money, time, other obligations — too many things got in the way.

This year, they made it to the postseason again and I decided I wasn’t going to miss it again this year.  I saw their opening loss to the Reds in the first round.  After they lost the second game, I despaired.  This incredible team then rolled off three wins, all in Cincinnati, to make it to the League Championship Series.

Three out of the first four games they looked absolutely pathetic.  I toyed with going to games and ended up going last night to see their Game 6 triumph — best time I’ve had at a baseball game ever.  For the past four hours, I’ve been planted in front of the TV, waiting.  And waiting.  And, now they’re in the World Series again.  Once again, three victories in a row to end and win a series.

World Series, here we come.  Now, if only I can figure out a way to justify the $400 a ticket cost.

The Sentimentality of Old Age

I’ve never liked our National Anthem. It’s a song about a war.  I’d prefer an anthem to be something like America the Beautiful.  But, not ours.  In some respects when you look at our history, maybe an anthem about a war makes sense.

I’ve also never been one to engage in displays of patriotism and I’m extremely put-off by those who do so.  All the flags and salutes and U-S-A chants just do nothing for me.  (It is, by the way, not just with respect to my country, but with respect to my teams as well.  Yes, I own a Giants hat and a couple of Giants T-Shirts, but other than those, I don’t own things that have my team names on them and I don’t have my car plastered with the stickers of my favorite teams.)  In other words, I’m mostly a quiet fan.  A quiet citizen.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of going to the SF Giants game 6 playoff against the Cardinals.  I took my oldest, who is a senior in high school.  We had a conversation about the current China-Japan dispute about some islands that consist of a grand total of 2 square miles (I think).  I used it as an example of the stupidity of nations.  He responded that was why wars were stupid and mentioned how many of the battles in World War I were fought over a mile of land.  Thousands of men died for the advantage of a mile here and a mile there.

I’m not a rah-rah kind of guy.  (Well, except when I’m cheering the Giants on in their place in Game 6 of the NLCS.)  I’d prefer that nationalism go the way of the dinosaur.  I don’t like labels and categories and divisions.  We aren’t, or shouldn’t be, Italian-Americans and African-Americans, gays or straights, Catholics or Jews or Atheists.  Instead, we should be Americans.  But, that actually isn’t enough either.  We should be people — just like the people who reside elsewhere.

Which makes my feeling during the national anthem yesterday so weird.  Maybe it’s my age — I find myself tearing up more these days at odd things.  Like this.  The sight of a huge American flag unfurled in the outfield, a tugboat shooting fountains of water into the air, and two jets flying over the stadium in an ear-shattering roar, while the Kingston Trio harmonized the national anthem.

Just plain weird.

Which is really my long-winded way of telling you that I got to see the game last night and we’re moving on to game 7 tonight.  Go Giants!

Major League Baseball SUCKS!!!!!

The newspaper says the Giants/Reds game is supposed to be on TV right now.  The schedule on the Dish says the Giants/Reds game is supposed to be on TV right now.  Lo and behold, what I’ve got is the Orioles/Yankees instead.

Oddly enough, the NFL can figure out that people tend to want to see their local or regional teams play rather than teams that play on the other side of the country.  It’s called regional telecasts.  You’ve got three games going on at the same time … the West coast sees games featuring West coast teams, the East coast sees games featuring East coast teams, and those weirdos in the middle?  Well, they see the Chiefs-Rams or whatever passes for football in the great unwashed Midwest.  I kid, of course about the Midwest.

Major League Baseball, on the other hand, can’t figure out that, even though the Orioles/Yankees game was postponed by rain, at 6:37 p.m. PST, people living in Northern California might actually want to watch the Giants/Reds game.

News flash for you idiots who run MLB — this is why the NFL is running laps around you these days.  That you can’t figure out a way to allow people to watch the game that interests them most at this point in the season says something about your stupidity.

Thank you for ruining my Sunday evening.  Frickin Orioles/Yankees on my TV!