Tubesox Nation Bay-Cott #5: The Mayor of Ingleside

Match-up: Cardinals-Giants
Date: 5/31
Weather: Overcast, 59 degrees
Five-Fold Path adherence: cycle
DOOSH: $120.50

The Mayor of Ingleside was in town, so in spite of gray skies, the four of us descended on Willie Mays Plaza. South of the Slot had wildcatted, leaving his car on a street not far from where he grew up, Sutros-Sutros had jumped off the N Judah, and the Mayor of Ingleside and I had rolled down from Potrero Hill. We had traveled different paths, but each of us had done the right thing by stiffing the management.

A few minutes earlier, the Mayor of Ingleside and I had run the 3rd Street gauntlet. First, we'd approached the Peanut Man's cousin, positioned way out near UCSF to catch the exiting freeway traffic. No tickets. Next we'd tried some other ambo who wanted $60 apiece and then, when we stopped listening, $30 apiece. By the time we finally got around to negotiating with the Peanut Man, he was equal parts cocksure and scolding.

Never mind the rest of them, you come to me first.

But I had to check in with your cousin, right?

Never mind him either, I'm the reason you met him.

And then the Peanut Man headed off in search of some tickets, leaving us in charge of his snack buckets and a jacket-wearing dog named Alfalfa; by the time he reappeared with our four-pack, I'd sold four bags of sunflower seeds.

Our seats were scattered all over the park, but sure enough, we found room in the left field bleachers and watched as the Giants took the lead, lost the lead (another poor outing for Kid Sanchez), and tied things up at three in the sixth. In the seventh, the home side went ahead for good, thanks to a Rich Aurilia solo shot which, if memory served, was the first Giants homer I'd witnessed this season (memory didn't serve, back in April, Bengie had gone yard during the Dodgers game I'd attended). Five out of six on the homestand; not too shabby, considering that the number five starter was on the hill in two of those games.

Afterwards, there were sea gulls, dozens of free plastic souvie cups (the Mayor of Ingleside lives in North Carolina, where BBQ means vinegar and San Francisco means Gomorrah, but he misses no opportunity to spread the Good Word about the simpler pleasures of his home city), and an unscheduled incursion into the mini-ballpark behind the bleachers. The Mayor of Ingleside looked positively Ruthian among his six-year-old playmates. Next time, I'm betting, he'll hit one out of the park.