Game 3 finally happens.
It’s one of the biggest crowds
ever at Candlestick Park.
The fans are a little quiet,
we are quiet, too,
from our living room.
Everything’s changed just a bit;
baseball seems
a little further away.
My father wears his Maldonado jersey,
my mother wears his Giants cap.
The game goes fast,
and by the end of the eighth inning,
the A’s are up by 10;
even though the Giants come back
in the ninth a little bit,
the loss makes my father quiet.
When the A’s close them out in Game 4,
my father seems so tired.
I look at him.
I guess we know what the Giants are made of now.
My father stares,
puts his arm around me.
You know what?
Imagine what it must be like,
after everything that happened,
just to show up. I mean the earth shook,
and just a few days later,
they played baseball again.
I guess that’s not all that bad,
just to make it there at all.