By Spencer Kimball
n.
1. The act of passing over, across, or through; passage.
Departure, 2 P.M.: Traffic on Highway 1 is mired in summer-seekers, no matter the direction.
Arrival: An imagined leisurely trip to the San Jose Caltrain station becomes a rush up the ramp to the track three minutes before departure.
2.
a. Conveyance of people or goods from one place to another, especially on a local public transportation system.
b. The system or vehicles used for such conveyance.
Departure: Do not pull handle, do not remove rubber, there is no emergency. We are now part of a contingent of several hundred fans entraining to San Francisco. A young woman has announced that she is getting married; she has a tiara over her Giants cap, and a satin sash proclaiming "Bride to Be." The conductor (-tress?) has announced that our departure is delayed by the presence of an unpaid interloper in the front car, normally reserved for bicycles, suitcases, and SRO. A sheepish young black man with a backpack departs within a minute, and so does the train.
Arrival: The throng traverses the "long block" to AT&T Park, and streams in the McCovey gate, accepting eagerly the day's giveaway of orange and black striped socks. Newcomers will accept that the crowd knows where it's going, and these newcomers will peel off at the second fan gear concession, finding a well-made, predictably expensive gray hoodie with a block-letter logo with gold highlighting to cement a three-layer hedge against the wind chill.
3. A transition or change, as to a spiritual existence at death.
"[Pitcher Stu Miller recalls,] 'By the end of the seventh, the flags were straight out, practically tearing off'... [Miller] went into the stretch for his first pitch when a fierce wind hit his shoulder... " - Jeff Faraudo, Contra Costa Times, recounting the famous "wind balk" during the 1961 All-Star game at Candlestick Park.
Departure: We have left the claustrophibic shelter of the humanity-flooded Promenade Level near the entry, and are near the iconic glove-and-bottle at the arcade, seeking food, specifically the oft-touted Crazy Crab sandwich and some beer. A fifteen-minute wait brings the reward of two carboard trays with the not-too-guilty pleasure, and we seek some nearby place to sit, eat, and drink. We get ejected from the adjacent small triangular eating area, suspiciously not full for a reason, a "private party" to arrive soon they say, and make our way to the nearby bleachers, not quite as suspiciously unfull ten minutes before the national anthem, nearly six o'clock. What happened to that four hours we reserved for home-to-seat? An usher cuts us some slack, and we cling to our trays against the wind's insistence, gobble and slurp, and manage to begin making our way to our seat just as the anthem is rendered by a saxaphone.
Arrival: We are more or less in our seats in mid-View Level, but have lost awareness of the first couple of Lincecum pitches, as well as the first out, in the combination of vendors, arrivals, and shifting of backpacks. We quickly become aware of two things: first, there probably is not a bad seat in "The Yard" as far as field view goes; and second, that if you're not near the front of your section, moving bodies and vendors will be a repeating theme.
4. Astronomy
a. The passage of a celestial body across the observer's meridian.
b. The passage of a smaller celestial body or its shadow across the disk of a larger celestial body.
"New York's only run came when Carlos Beltran and Daniel Murphy hit consecutuve doubles with two outs in the first... Nate Schierholtz and Aubrey Huff drove in runs in the first inning off Chris Capuano (8-8)..." - Associated Press
It's looking like it could be a rare game of offense.
| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
NYM 0 0 0 0 0
SF 0 0 0 0 0
Hmm... silly me.
I'm noticing foul balls on our side, the left field side, are very difficult to predict; they all look like they're going foul in a way, and then someone maybe out of sight catches them on the dirt. It's not as hard to get a handle on pitch location as I would have thought. It turns out I'm not moved to look through the binocs much. The vendors have become a kind of joke, and they are in on it. At one point, the churros guy is in the middle of the section near a woman who's earlier told the too-slow cocoa guy to squat down, and he points to the top-heavy cotton candy guy hovering at the foot of the section and asks the woman, "cotton candy?" - and she yells, "No! Go away!", and everyone laughs. I ask my neighbor at one point about how Huff got out while said CC vendor blocked the view, and he kindly points out the small characters to the right of the batting lineup entries on the main scoreboard, "3u", ah.
"Lincecum retired the first two batters every inning, but failed to set the Mets down in order even once... was pulled after six innings with 114 pitches." - Associated Press
"Sandoval drove in an insurance run in the seventh when he beat out a potential inning-ending double-play ball." - Los Angeles Times
The stretch is a treat, just as I remember it being in Chavez Ravine some years ago. A fan manages to name most of the parks in the fans' most beautiful top five, this one being the top nationally. The fan cam puts a Giants cap on Mets fans, one stands up and sits down repeatedly, cleverly drawing a laugh.
"Pablo Sandoval had two hits to extend his hitting streak to 20 games..." - Associated Press, 7/10/11
"Scott Hairston, who hit a go-ahead, pinch-hit homer in Friday's win, again came off the bench, but [reliever Sergio] Romo struck him out to record his first save since 2009." - Los Angeles Times
Departure: The "let's go Giants" with the associated syncopated clap continues down the ramps: Oracle Suite Level, Club Level, Promenade Level, it's like being on an overstuffed carousel, each ramp hosting a new 500 people every minute, and, at last, Field Level comes in to view, then there are the orange-lit palms, the buskers, the last-chance vendors, and the fan diaspora returning to their various lairs.
5. A surveying instrument similar to a theodolite that measures horizontal and vertical angles.
Arrival, 10:57 P.M.: Ten hours, more than forty stops, up to Patchen Pass and down again twice, up four levels and down again, down one run and up again, a hundred fifty miles, several thousand steps: ready for bed; three to one, final.
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