Just sayin’
We saw police cars/boats/&c. being sent out to outlying areas during the eighth inning when it seemed we had a chance. Would the fans tear up the town with a win? That was the question.
With luck the news will arrive on our doorstep tomorrow with no ugly clashes or fights or deaths or stupidities or whatever.
We’re happy.
Remember, folks. These are only those we can see from our aerie.
His nibs tells me that while driving back into our bucolic ville (from work) today, he could see a fine collection of other buildings (not visible from our aerie) that are turning orange.
And the town paints itself orange. City Hall. [no photo] Coit Tower. Treasure Island’s Admin building. The Ferry Building.
Saturday night we were at the annual fundraiser for the Salesian Boys and Girls Club, which is on Filbert, next to Saints Peter and Paul. The fundraiser is actually in the basement of Saints Peter and Paul.
Deal is, you buy a raffle ticket for a chunk of change when you get the party invite in the mail. On the evening of, the raffle ticket gets two of you into the fundraiser where you have congenial companions, open bar before dinner and throughout, buffet dinner (with shrimp, raw oysters, multiple salads, pastas, the whole works, including guys carving roast beef). Followed by the need-not-be-present-to-win raffle and then live music. All for a good cause — making sure the Club has enough funds to serve all the kids who attend, who pay a membership fee of only $10/year.
Saturday night was rainy. The Giants were in the playoffs. The turnout for all that was robust. Must’ve been the Disco theme!
We were there, of course, primarily because the guy who runs the Club is married to someone I know from grade school days. We were seated at the Scoma table w/ Ms Scoma and another person we’d met at previous SBGC fundraisers, others. Then we were moved over to the Gumina table, where my grade school friend held sway. Then we moved back to the Scoma table because the Gumina table was overbooked and two more people showed up, wanting to sit there. Two of the Copp godchildren, with their spouses, showed up late and joined us at the Scoma table. Finding parking had been a problem. It’s all family and friends, interesting people, and we land wherever we land.
The raffle was over (twenty prizes, ranging from tickets for Beach Blanket Babylon and dinner beforehand to an all-expenses-paid African safari or $15K cash).
We didn’t win. 
Live music. Disco theme, did I mention? The attention of the crowd, though, was on the ballpark, over the hill and down the Embarcadero. The score, which had been 2-0 Phillies earlier in the evening, was now tied at 2-2. Sure there were dancers on the floor, but there was a growing crowd clustered around the TV that someone had found and set up at the back of the hall.
Eighth inning. Cheers erupted as Juan Uribe hit a home run, putting the Giants ahead 3-2.
The band tried to lure back their crowd by playing a song that Tony Bennett sings on occasion. Didn’t work. Ninth inning. Giants don’t score. Bottom of the ninth. Brian Wilson pitching. One out. Two. The dance floor was practically empty as the inning progressed. The band finally just stopped playing. They’d lost their audience with the score 3-2, bottom of the ninth, two outs, two Phillies on base. Could the Giants’ Wilson make that third out and clinch the game?
He could!
And the crowd cheered. And the band began playing again as their audience drifted back to the dance floor.
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