SAN
FRANCISCO SPORTS
“We saw stretched out ahead of us the fabulous
white city of San Francisco on her eleven mystic hills with the blue Pacific
and its advancing wall of potato-patch fog beyond, and smoke and goldenness in
the late afternoon of time.”
― Jack Kerouac, “On the Road”
― Jack Kerouac, “On the Road”
Unlike Kerouac—a fellow New Englander who
first saw the Golden Gate from his car—my first look at San Francisco was from
the air, a view I reprised last week when I again flew into this unique
American metropolis.
On our glide path into San Francisco a
passenger pointed out Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara, the new home of the 49ers
and the site of Super Bowl L this past February. I looked to the horizon, past
Santa Clara, towards San Jose, and thought of the Earthquakes—perhaps the most
storied American professional soccer team. And then it occurred to me that,
incongruously, the NHL’s San Jose Sharks were recent Stanley Cup finalists.
Mark Twain supposedly claimed that “The
coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Northern California
indeed features a unique summer climate. The temperature hovered around 60
degrees, with strong winds making it feel much colder. Twain would have been
better advised to spend a summer at Lake Winnipesaukee, with its balmy 80
degree July temperatures, while saving San Francisco for January.
San Francisco Giant centerfielder Willie
Mays was a victim of contrary winds at Candlestick Park. The Hall-of-Famer hit
660 career home runs, but may well have surpassed Babe Ruth’s 714 had he played
in AT&T Park, which opened in 2000. Obviously Barry Bonds had no trouble
hitting homers at the newer venue.
Signs remain directing people to
Candlestick Park, but that historic edifice was demolished last year. It’s a
pity, given all the sports history made by the Giants, 49ers, and others—like the
Beatles, who performed their final outdoor concert there in 1966.
Winners of the World Series in 2010, 2012,
and 2014, the Giants remain a premier MLB franchise—built in large part by their
general manager, Concord’s Brian Sabean.
And then there are the Golden State
Warriors. A local delightedly pointed out their recent signing of basketball
superstar Kevin Durant. As the Warriors just set the single season NBA victory
record, some feel the Warriors are already a lock for next year’s World
Championship. But I pointed out that the 1968-69 Lakers were similarly
projected as unbeatable after they acquired Wilt Chamberlain to team up with
L.A. superstars Jerry West and Elgin Baylor. That unbeatable team fell 108-106
to Bill Russell’s Boston Celtics in Game 7 of the 1969 NBA Finals.
Russell, incidentally, was a product of
the University of San Francisco, where he led the Dons to a 55-game win streak
and two NCAA titles.
With Stanford University and UCal-Berkley
also featuring storied college sports traditions, I wondered if the Bay Area had
surpassed New England as the nation’s top sports region. But as it wasn’t until
the late 1950s that big-time sports came to San Francisco, historic Boston must
remain the nation’s top sports city—though maybe we could rethink that
designation if San Francisco sports continue to flourish for a few more
decades.
Not that San Francisco can’t claim some
history. Sports bars feature plenty of photos of the DiMaggio brothers, who
played early on with the San Francisco Seals of the Pacific Coast League. But
Joe will also be remembered as a New York Yankee, and Dom as a member of the
Boston Red Sox. Sorry, about that, San Francisco.
San Francisco is a friendly place, but somewhat
alien to your traditional Granite Stater. Riding the BART (Bay Area Rapid
Transit system) meant listening to a cacophony of foreign tongues. Still it was
heartening to see so many diverse peoples getting along. And I was happy that
folks with purple, green, and pink hair had a safe place to be themselves.
Could I live in San Francisco, if
circumstances required? Sure. It’s a special place with wonderful sports
teams—and more.
But if such a move ever manifested itself,
I’m sure I’d end up writing wistfully of New England. Maybe I’d even write a
song, for which—with apologies to Tony Bennett—I already have a name.
“I Left My Heart…in Lake Winnipesaukee!”
(Photo caption: The DiMaggos, Dom, Joe, and Vince.)
