In San Francisco sports circles the saying goes, “The only thing better than a Giants win is a Dodger loss.” This is a bitter rivalry that has legs. It easily survived the 1958 move from New York. It’s right up there with the Ali v. Frazier, Bears v. Packers, Duke v. North Carolina, Athens v. Sparta, and Road Runner v. Wile. E. Coyote. When a new ball player arrives to either clubhouse, they are rushed to the trainer’s table to receive an immediate infusion of bad blood. In other words, these two teams DO NOT like each other!
In the 1889 World Series, the Giants represented the sophisticates from Manhattan, while the Dodgers, known as the Bridegrooms at that time, were the heroes of Brooklyn’s working class. In the early 1900s, it was heightened by a long-standing personal feud between Charles Ebbets, owner of the Dodgers, and John McGraw, manager of the Giants. The two used their teams as fighting surrogates, which caused incidents between players both on and off the field and inflamed fans' passions sometimes to deadly levels. We have seen that same kind of unfortunate violence as recently as this year.
It is true, however, that a good healthy rivalry can save a team’s season. Cal can lose every football game on its schedule but if they beat Stanford, it kind of makes up for that. And it can be fun to loudly bad mouth the other team. However, I suggest you do so in the company of likeminded people. Don’t yell “Dodgers suck!” at Dodger Stadium. Most fans will think that whatever happens to you, you had it coming. “Let’s go, Giants!” is less dangerous. Accentuate the positive.
The year after the Giants had won their third World Series in five years, I was attending a Giants/Dodgers game in San Francisco, sitting in front of six Dodger fans in their 20’s, one guy and five girls. They spewed plenty of profanity throughout the game, most of it coming from the females. I had finally had enough and turned around to address the guy who sat directly behind me, “Could you guys give it a rest? There’s kids here.” I expected indignance but he painfully whined, “You guys just won three World Series. We have haven’t won since 1988. C’mon, man.” I repeated that plenty of kids were within earshot and could they cut out the f-bombs. They did their best to rein in their primal instincts for the rest of the game. But I shall never forget the instant hound dog look on his face. He was genuinely hurting. As a baseball fan, I couldn’t help but care.
Maybe the most healing feature of attending a sporting event is that you are permitted to yell out loud in a big crowd. You can calm the frustration of everyday life by yelling repeatedly for 3-4 hours. That’s a lot cheaper than several sessions of cognitive therapy. An argument with your girlfriend, getting passed over for a promotion, a political divide between you and a family member, all that can be soothed by yelling at the umpire, “You suck, blue!”
I make it a point to yell at every game. Usually I’m encouraging a player, “C’mon Jake! Strike him out! Get ‘em Jake!” I will, however, admonish an opposing player who protests an umpire’s call, “Sit down, Max. You’re out! You walking lawn gnome!” Where else can I get this loud? If I scream my favorite retort from Giants’ broadcaster, Mike Krukow, “Grab some pine, meat!” during the Concerto in D Minor by Sibelius at the San Francisco Symphony, there’s a slight chance the first violin might bust a string.
The same can be said for a rock concert. It feels good to loudly whoop, applaud, and sing along, but probably not as good as yelling, “Fuck off, Clapton! You racist, anti-vaxxing piece of shit!” I feel a little light-headed just typing that.
The most vociferous fans are in New York and I don’t necessarily mean the way they treat the other team. They are toughest on their own players. Last winter the Mets signed former Cleveland all-star shortstop, Francisco Lindor. They broke the bank paying him $341 million for 10 years. In 2018, he batted .277, hit 38 home runs, and stole a boatload of bases for the Indians. Going into the last week of this season he is batting .228 with only 18 home runs. Fans in the stands have routinely booed him and fellow underachiever, Javier Baez all season.
Lindor and Baez retaliated recently by giving the thumbs down gesture every time they’ve gotten a hit or scored. This has only led to the fans booing even louder. For the record, I am totally on board with Met fans. If I’m paying $40 for seat, $9 for a hot dog, and $12 for a Bud Light, and the most expensive acquisition in the team’s history can’t put the bat barrel on the ball and he’s signed for the next ten flipping years, you bet I’m gonna let him hear about it.
Of course, you don’t need to be at the ballpark to protest. You are well within your First Amendment rights to kibbitz out loud on a street corner. If your mate is giving you grief, go out there and give her hell. Yell like a carnival barker: “OH, THAT’S RIGHT. YOU HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE WHILE I SIT ON MY ASS AND WATCH FOOTBALL. YOU HAVE TO MAKE SURE I DON’T GET CHANCE TO RELAX ON SUNDAY BECAUSE ON SATURDAY WE DROVE FOR TWO HOURS TO YOUR FRIEND’S WEDDING OUT IN THE BOONIES AND SPENT ALL DAY AROUND HER NEW HUSBAND’S REDNECK FRIENDS AND NOBODY WAS WEARING A FUCKING MASK! AND THEN YOU SLEPT WHILE I DROVE THE WHOLE WAY HOME. AND THEN I HAVE THE AUDACITY TO WANT TO WATCH THE NINERS THIS MORNING WHILE THE LAWN NEEDS MOWING. I AM SO GODDAMN LAZY. YOU NAILED IT!
Do it. Just make sure she’s not around.
Great perspective on baseball (sports by extension). Thanks for writing it. A couple of seasons ago, the wife and I were on the N Car going to a game. A young African American man with Giants regalia abounding told us he was going to sit in the bleachers and heckle the Dodgers. He claimed it was a "proud tradition" of baseball. We laughed with him and couldn't help but agree. But we sat in the 2nd deck where people were more civil.
Lindor! Still an Indias (Guardians) fave. But yeah, he should know better!