I’ve been a baseball fan all my life. As a kid, Johnny Bench was my hero. As a teenager, I thought the Dodgers fielded the cutest infield in the bigs: Steve Garvey, Ron Cey, Davey Lopes (still extremely handsome, even in Dodger Blue) and Bill Russell. Even a die-hard Giants fan has to admit they were a good-looking bunch of guys. But I’m a Northern California girl, so I went for the local team. Yeah, sure, I could have rooted for the A’s, but I was of the opinion that Charlie Finley’s mascot said a lot about the man. For those of you who don’t know, it was a jackass, oh excuse me, a donkey, appropriately named Charlie O. When I was a teenager, I spent part of my summers in San Francisco with my godparents and their family. My godfather’s mother, Mrs. Flynn, sat at the kitchen table huddled over a transistor radio listening to Lon Simmons and Russ Hodges call the Giants games. Everybody, including me, loved Mrs. Flynn, so I declared myself a Giants fan too. Mrs. Flynn is the original Gamer Babe. If not, she is at least a charter member.
I bleed orange and black.
I am a constant reader, a sometime writer, a fabulous cook (self-proclaimed, but who are you to argue?), wife, mother and friend. I have the greatest family in the world, some of the best friends a girl could ask for, 2 really great kids who make me laugh and keep me entertained, and who I love more than life itself. And a husband. What can I say about my husband? He’s retired. Need I say more? I will. When he said for better or for worse, he meant it. Literally. And he proves that day in and day out. I don’t live in The City, but both my kids do and I’m not that far, all I have to do is head down the road, cross the bridge and I’m at The Yard.