We were up earlier than I wanted to be. I’m not blamin’ anyone, really, it was just that a cell phone went off at 4am and with my tenuous grasp on sleep, that was all she wrote. Fortunately, M. found out that train tickets were available the night before and had scored us a couple. Which was a good things, because when we arrived at the train station well before 7a.m. the line was wrapped around the building:
Tickets in hand, we walked past the lines. A very well-organized staff at Caltrain’s Diridon Station directed us to an express train to San Francisco, one of many running just for the parade. Most people dozed on the train, until we neared Fourth and King in San Francisco and some rowdy fans sent up a chant.
You might wonder how so many could down beers at 7:45 in the morning. Or maybe you don’t. I sure did.
The guy sitting across from us on the upper deck of the train had the coolest shoes.
Did I tell you tutus were big?
When we got off the train we were welcomed by Panera Bread and dropped in for a cup of something hot, brown and caffeinated. And watched the crowd.
Yeah, I buried this. Keep reading and maybe you’ll see some other interesting photos.
Some Giants fans allowed their pet birds out for the day.
Festive head coverings were the most entertaining.
Pandas were popular.
Really? with a straight face?
A pose worthy of GQ.
The quintessential sweatshirt.
Queen for a day, I guess. Lots of competition for THAT title in San Francisco.
And then, the hair.
The Giants Nation is uninhibited.
Hey! that’s MY hat!
Wait a minute! Those aren’t Giants colors! I think she escaped from Oaklands 1968 Exhibit.
We made our way to Market and Fourth and staked out some ground from which to watch the victory parade.
These girls were adorable.
After three hours, we were intimate friends with this couple and enjoyed inhaling the sweet aroma of herb together all morning. This was possible without a hookah.
She pulled herself up on this sign with the help of the Giants Nation, who chanted, “Pull! pull! pull!” Then a cop shook a pair of handcuffs at her and she climbed down. Instantly.
Mitt Romney had no such scruples. Is that any surprise?
The Giants Nation chanted for the police to Taser him. Yes, the Nation is left of center. But you knew that, right?
The crowd on our corner grew.
A sea of black and orange appeared behind us.
Mitt finally climbed down and these three planted their flags. So to speak.
I’ve never been a huge sports fan, but I do love baseball and have long loved the Giants. There’s something special about being a part of the Giants Nation, and I asked my husband, a huge baseball fan and baseball trivia expert, what he thought it was.
“Well, Miami fans are passionate, which is both good and bad. New York fans are hypercritical. LA fans are there to see and be seen, the antithesis of Brooklyn fans. Philadelphia fans are mean–their fan base even booed Santa Claus. But Giants fans? They’re happy. Joyful.”
And the team took every possible opportunity credit their fans, whether it’s the team making heart signs to the fans with their fingers, sending them love back or my favorite player, Tim Lincecum, thanking the fans as he rode down market street. Reading his lips, he kept saying “Thank you! Thankvyou guys very much!” Which is why we love our team.
And why we waited for a very long time, standing in a crowd of orange and black, to be part of this celebration.
I told you it would be worth sticking with.
M. wanted all backpacks banned as they kept knocking into him.
Kept running into him and kept wishing his kilt matched his tshirt.
Want me some orange shoes.
More sartorial splendor below:
Yes, Weed sox.
The Playoff signs had hardly gone up when we won the Series, so this is how they looked at the parade. And we DID!
That’s everyone, actually. Because the Giants are inclusive. Every single member of the organization was in the Parade today, from the team medical staff and ushers to the peanut vendors and sponsors. Which mean it was a hella long parade. Biodegradable confetti, of course. Want a few snippets of video? Ok. But stick with it, because you never know what else might be posted!
First, some Brian Wilson. I wish you could really see his attire. The snood on his head is amazing. He’s a member of MENSA, too. Can you imagine him playing anywhere but SF?
Gotta prep the crowd, right?
A nod to our Chinatown.
There is no cooler manager than Bruce Bochy. None. And note the trophy! Ours AGAIN!
We love Madison Bumgarner.
Adore Brandon Belt.
The incomparable Willie Mays is ALWAYS respected and honored.
And then, Sergio Romo had the shirt of the day. Only a Giant could get away with this:
I could just hug him!
Meet Wafer. “Don’t approach him! He bites!” we were cautioned. But he does like to pose.
And then, finally, back to the train station. We were exhausted, but loved being with our tribe. We wear our orange and black proudly. Congratulations, San Francisco Giants, on a well-deserved win!
Come on, let’s take Caltrain home, shall we?