Tag: San Francisco Giants

Awe and Pride

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In the 1960s–when the San Francisco Giants appeared at Busch Memorial Stadium in St. Louis to play the Cardinals–the bleachers were a heavenly place for Dad and me to be.

Because, on many hot summer days and nights, in addition to watching our beloved Cardinals’ legends perform on the field (especially Bob Gibson and Lou Brock), we saw Willie Mays patrol centerfield.

Simply put, there was no one better–before or since–at chasing down line drives and long fly balls. Securing the ball in his mitt with his patented basket catch. Smiling at fans who gravitated to his magnetic personality.

Willie was the face of major league baseball in those days. His affable presence and disarming charm seemed to neutralize the racial prejudice that haunted many other black athletes when they traveled from town to town.

We ALL observed Willie’s greatness and humanity with awe and pride. He was a hero to black and white fans alike.

I won’t recite all of Willie’s remarkable batting statistics and records. I’ll leave that to the experts. Suffice it to say, his lifetime batting average of .301, 660 home runs, 3,293 hits, 1,909 runs batted in, and 339 stolen bases made his election to the Hall of Fame in 1979 a no-brainer.

Willie brought exuberance, fun, and a boatload of hitting and fielding talent to every game he played over more than two decades.

He was a legend off the field, too. For instance, he spent many hours playing stick ball with kids on the streets of New York before the Giants moved their franchise to San Francisco in the late 1950s.

I cried when I learned of Willie’s death on Tuesday at age 93.

Truly, there will never be another Willie Mays.

***

Beyond past ballfields (and my continued propensity to root for the St. Louis Cardinals as I approach my 67th birthday in the scorching summer heat of Arizona), my personal sense of awe and pride lives and breathes in a far different venue: on stage with the Phoenix Gay Men’s Chorus.

This weekend we will be performing our Encore show at the Tempe Center of the Arts. I’m proud of the libretto I’ve written for the show.

Five storytellers–I’m one of them–will connect the music with tales of reflection concerning who and what our chorus is. More than that, what it means to us in 2024.

For the audience and us performers, it will be a high-energy, emotional rollercoaster of favorite musical and choral moments, punctuated with dazzling choreography.

For added emphasis, this will be the final performance for our artistic director, Marc. He will pass the conducting baton to our new director, Antonio, who will usher in a new era of awe and pride for the Phoenix-area LGBTQ community and all our avid supporters and music lovers.

Land of the Giants

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ClubSAR_Feb2019

I’ve been a baseball fan all my life. I should rephrase that. I’m a St. Louis Cardinals fan, because I grew up in St. Louis and have fond memories of watching the Redbirds with my dad. I still root for the Cardinals, but now I live in Scottsdale, Arizona, in the land of the Giants. You see, Old Town Scottsdale is the springtime home of the San Francisco Giants.

In March, the Valley of the Sun becomes the Valley of the Snowbirds. Primarily because baseball fans flock here to watch their favorite teams play in Cactus League baseball games. All the restaurants and streets in Old Town are filled with baseball revelers, who are grateful to be away from the cold and cloudy skies where they typically live (and are generally willing to disregard the cooler-than-normal March we’re experiencing this year).

My husband and I work out three or four times a week at Club SAR. It’s a fitness center that’s connected to one of the Giants’ practice facilities a few miles north of our home. As we were leaving the gym just before noon on Monday, I passed an imposing figure in a San Francisco Giants uniform. He was seated on a park bench. I smiled and said “Good morning.” He returned the favor as I  continued on my way.

That’s when I realized the man I had acknowledged was Lee Smith, baseball pitching legend. Lee was a real closer, a relief specialist, a true baseball giant. He’s third on the all time “saves” list and was elected to the Hall of Fame last December. Lee is now a minor league pitching coach for the San Francisco Giants.

If Lee’s personal success as a pitcher is any indication–a dominating figure and flame-thrower who played a combined eighteen years for the Cubs, Red Sox, Cardinals, Yankees and four other teams–the Giants will be thankful they have him on the field guiding their young pitching staff in the coming 2019 baseball season.

Previously in my life, I would have turned around and possibly run back for a chance of a photo with Lee. Or at least asked for his autograph. But he seemed quite content sitting there in the shady entryway to the gym. I didn’t want to disturb him.

Now that I’m sixty-one-years old, I couldn’t see the upside of hassling a Hall of Famer. He’s certainly earned the respect and any rest he can get. I was simply satisfied with my brush with greatness on a Monday morning, living here in the land of the Giants.