Despite Everything, a Giant at Heart.

• Author: BARRETT, WAYNE M.
• Position: Fan of San Francisco Giants baseball team - Brief Article

MAY 1, 1883. Before being overshadowed by the date of my marriage and then the birth of my children, that particular 19th-century May Day holiday provided a personal reason to celebrate: It marked the fast game ever played by my favorite baseball team. And although I didn't join the fold until 82 years later, in my heart, I know that somehow, some piece of my spirit was there that day when the New York (now San Francisco) Giants officially became part of the National League.

That's the most wonderful aspect of rooting for a particular club that seems lost on today's new generation of fans: Once you've made your choice, you immediately inherit the history and legacy--both good and bad--of your favorite franchise. As a grade-school youngster engaging in bitter arguments with New York Mets' followers, I'd always be sure to point out quite emphatically that no N.L. team had won more pennants than my beloved Giants (although they've since been passed by the hated Dodgers, and yes, that stung quite a bit). I'd also always make clear that, if the Giants (and Dodgers) hadn't left New York for California, there would be no Mets.

(Perhaps the ultimate irony was that the Giants played their last home game in the Polo Grounds--the Mets' home field their first two seasons--barely a month before I was born and their first game in 'Frisco four months after I came into the world.)

There also was a measure of satisfaction in the Mets' first season as an expansion team, 1962, as that was the year the S.F. Giants won their fast--and for the longest time only--pennant. Mets rooters got the last laugh, however, as I had to endure schoolyard taunts over the 1969 Miracle Mets, the 1973 Ya Gotta Believe Mets (who slipped into last place the final week of August via a 1-0 loss to the Giants at Shea Stadium--I was there--only to clinch first place on the last day of the season), and the 1986 Mets, who stunned the Boston Red Sox in a seven-game World Series. (Once again, I was there. Ouch!)

Actually, I should have seen it all coming. During my first five years as a Giants fan, they finished second every time. That made for half a decade of mighty long cold winter nights, torturing myself with countless "what if?" scenarios. The last of these runner-up spots, in 1969, was particularly agonizing. Not only did the Giants go into the final week of the season with a wonderful shot at the Western Division crown, they would have faced the Mets in the playoffs.

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