Last week was manager Bruce Bochy’s 59th birthday, and his team honored him with what has been called a very unusual double header against the Dodgers — the games were 18 hours apart. Tuesday night’s game was a long one, ending in the bottom of the 12th with a walk-off single by Hector Sanchez at 12:15 Wednesday morning. That was a great start to the Skipper’s birthday and at the end of his big day was another win. Not a bad start to a new year!

It got me thinking about how baseball fans celebrate their birthdays. My birthday is at the end of February during No Baseball season, but growing up, all I wanted was an outdoor picnic. I didn’t understand back then that I was born in the wrong month for that kind of party, which led to a birthday disappointment I wouldn’t resolve for many years.

My childhood parties were in our garage, specially cleaned out for the occasion. There were plenty of games and activities to keep us busy, like Drop The Clothes Pin In The Milk Bottle. I’m sure kids of today can’t relate because there were no electronics involved, but the games were fun and engaging, and the decorations were unique. Two of my uncles owned grocery stores and provided life-size cut-outs of cartoon characters from cereal or snacks displays. But if those parties had been picnics, we would have played catch or workup, a great baseball game that lets everyone have a chance at various positions on the field while working up to the batters box. I’d have to be very patient to finally realize my dream.

As I got older the celebrations moved to the evenings, and included more food and drink and less games. But still, I longed for a picnic or a baseball game, and was jealous of people who got their names on the scoreboard at Candlestick Park with messages like ‘Happy Birthday Susie!’ Whenever I had tickets for a game on August 23, I let everyone sitting around me know that it was my Half Birthday. Unfortunately, people were largely unimpressed.

I had to move 8,000 miles away to Australia before I finally got my birthday picnic. Most of the parks there have coin-operated grills, so we only had to bring the bangers (sausages) and other food. Aussie hot dogs are not for human consumption. I brought two gloves, a bat and a ball, and a friend had invited some Samoan softball players. College friends Bob, Gayle and son Scott were on a 6 month work assignment outside of Melbourne, and I’d met fellow American Kim through work. That made a nice quorum of people who knew the game. We coached my Aussie friends how to NOT hold the bat like they were playing cricket, and they actually did pretty well. It was a rousing game, and I went home very content that I’d finally had my birthday baseball picnic.

More recently, my friend Julia got a very special Baseball Birthday. She shares her day with Buster Posey, although they’re at least a few years apart. I’d found some Giants baseball cards, selected one I thought she’d like, then delivered the card with a note and self-addressed, stamped envelope to the clubhouse at Spring Training. The note asked Buster to sign the card so I could give it to Julia at the Play Ball Luncheon the day after their birthdays, and the day the team returned from Arizona. I knew that there was no guarantee that I’d get the card back, but I had fingers crossed every time I went to my mailbox. The day before the luncheon, there it was! Julia was not only surprised, she was speechless, and it was worth all the effort to provide a Baseball Birthday memory she won’t forget.

I’m not sure which is the best way to celebrate a Baseball Birthday, but either a winning double header from your team, or a long-awaited picnic DownUnder with a rousing game of softball, or a card signed by your favorite player who shares your birthday would do for me. How about you?

I’d finally gotten settled into my Opening Day seat, so I turned to say hello to Bobby to my left. We cross paths every few years during Opening Week, when it’s our turn in each of our ticket groups to get one of these prized games.

“Ahhhh, at last!” I sighed contentedly.

“Oh yeah!” Bobby said. “How long have you been waiting for this day?”

“Let’s see, when was the end of the season last year?” I asked.  “I’d say about 3 weeks after that.”

And that’s how it was all day, reconnecting with my comfort zone. I woke up Tuesday morning, very excited that I’d be returning to my second home, AT&T Park, where I spend so much time during Baseball Season. I had lots of people to see and things to do, with a special bonus waiting for me: one of my favorite cousins was the police officer at my gate. Before going in, I made a quick visit to the family bricks that honor those who taught my generation about the game, and then got a big hug from a handsome cop. A great way to start the day!

Carmel’s friendly elevator

Next there was the always upbeat Carmel, who runs the one-flight-up elevator I take when my knees or back can’t make it up the long flight of stairs. With a huge hug, smile, and “Glad you’re back!!” it was starting to feel like home again.

The elevator lets passengers out in the plaza with the aroma of garlic fries and hand carved sandwiches, where the Field of Dreams quote dominates the wall. I was due to meet some friends there at noon for our annual reading of the quote, but with some time to spare, I headed to my seat to drop off my gear.

There were many familiar faces that I passed – at the sausage stand, the souvenir shop, and the Carvery. But I was looking for Susan, who has been the usher in my section forever. When I arrived, Susan was there with a smile and a hug. I knew it would be a good day in section 109 — Susan takes great care of the ticket holders and monitors people going to their seats while there’s a batter in the box. After running to get snacks during games, I often stop at the top of the stairs and chat while waiting for the inning to be over. It’s hard to make the 15 row trek back down to my seats without disturbing other fans.

After visiting my seats, I checked out the new bathroom configuration and took note of the food stands nearby: the Doggie Diner cart with the grilled Giant Dogs and sheboygen brattwurst was still there and doing a good business; the popcorn stand at the entrance to my section smelled tempting, as always; and the Carvery was still just across the way. There was more open space behind the rows of seats so that fans can stand and watch the game from a different vantage point. And there was a souvenir stand close enough that I could run up between innings to get an emergency pair of new earrings. Things were starting to feel very comfortable.

The reading of the Field of Dreams quote.

But the clock was ticking, and I had an important appointment. I hurried back to the plaza, shared hugs with more familiar faces, and stood with the crowd waiting for the reading of the Field of Dreams quote that is painted on the wall. Jane, who sits next to me with her husband during games, shouted out, “Attention! It’s time for our annual reading of the Field of Dreams quote to get us in the right frame of mind for the season. Is everyone ready?” With a rousing “YES!” we began.

The reading was spirited and full of emotion. The quote explains why we’re baseball fans and keep coming back year after year, and what the game means to us. It’s about family, heroes, magic and memories.

Baseball is back, and we’re home once again.

I was born in San Francisco and lived there for my first 2 1/2 years, so by birthright I’m a Giants fan. My parents met and married there, and the family is pretty locked into all things SF.

The locale of one’s birth and early life doesn’t always play out in loyalty to the local team though.  One of my friends is a St. Louis Cardinals fan, even though he and his family are from the Bay Area. How did that happen?? Well, when he was in 4th or 5th grade and just learning the game, his best friend Tommy (not his real name) was a Cardinals fan. So Kevin (his real name) didn’t know any better, and started following that team. Years later, when Kevin became one of my great baseball mentors, we had some tense moments at Giants/Cardinals games at Candlestick depending on whose team was in the lead. There were a few innings where we didn’t speak to each other.

When I was young, LA was the wonderful land of Disney and my favorite kissing cousins. Those are the kind of relatives who are there through marriage and not blood, so it’s ok to have huge crushes on them. Which I did.  They were cute, so I forgave them later for being Dodger fans.

Soon after our first trip to Disneyland, baseball came to the West Coast. My father and his 4 brothers had followed the Pacific Coast League, so I’d heard about the SF Seals and great players like the DiMaggio brothers. My mother had moved to The City, as we always called it, when she was 14 and although she didn’t know as much about baseball, she knew and loved her town.

It didn’t take long for an intense rivalry to start between the Giants and Dodgers. Separated by 400 miles of either farm land or coastal beaches, depending on the route, these 2 teams were the only game in town. When the Dodgers came to SF, with the likes of Sandy Koufax, Don Drysdale, Maury Wills and Duke Snider, fans turned out to watch great baseball. The Giants matched their line-up with players like Juan Marichal, Willie McCovey, Orlando Cepeda and the great Willie Mays. Even the ground crew was involved — they famously watered down the dirt next to first base to slow down Maury Wills, one of the best base-stealers of his time.

On weekends during those early days, families worked and played in their yards with the game blasting from radios all around the neighborhood. My father and I discussed the standings every morning at breakfast, based on what happened the previous evening. I was always happy to check the paper to see my Giants listed at the top. They weren’t always there, but they were always close.

As I got older, I realized that many people in LA didn’t care much about San Francisco and the rivalry, but we did and that’s what mattered. Yelling  ‘Beat LA!’ at a game is still fun. I hope to do it often in a couple of weeks when the Dodgers come into town.

The Giants have won 1 more World Series than the Dodgers.

In the meantime, I’m watching this weekend’s games with utter delight. The Giants/Dodgers games are always intense, but more so this year when the LA payroll is soooo high and many people think that’s the reason they’ll take the division. The Giants have some expensive players too and they’re showing that they can hit, especially on a 2-out count. But they also have great chemistry and a lot of heart, something the Dodgers seem to be lacking.  This may be a year when we’ll look at those intangibles that make up a team and say, ‘Money  can’t buy a championship.’   Stay tuned — it should be a fun ride.