McAfee Stadium from my parking spot.
INTRO—California's a Brand New Game
PART 1—Yo Soy Tu Padre
PART 2—Angels Aren't Just in the Outfield
OAKLAND, Calif.—Driving up to the Bay Area was an interesting experience. For the first hour, I felt like I had driven into the world depicted at the opening of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby. It was pure desolation, a veritable wasteland. I half-expected the eyes of T.J. Eckleburg to pop out of nowhere. Then an hour further and I felt like I was on the set of North by Northwest, as crop planes soared down close over the top of my car.
A little side story for my Boston readership: When I got to Oakland Alameda Coliseum—which I discovered is actually McAfee Coliseum (oops)—I got a little lost navigating the press area and stumbled across the weight room where I found Kevin Millar (now with the Jays) introducing a family to Nomar Garciaparra (now with the A’s).
“He’s a funny guy,” I heard Millar say to one in the family as they walked away from the conversation.