Don't hate me, but I live in West Sacramento. I have kids that are young, and sometimes they drop prices to single digits and it's kinda hard to say no.
So I compromise and wear my kelly green SELL shirt. I am the only one wearing it, though there are plenty of Oakland jerseys. I barely pay attention to the game, as my kids are little demons that need to run up and down the lawn area and in circles around the concourses and somehow they found strawberries?? Like straight up strawberries in a planter box. My daughter is just starting softball, so I was able to talk about how the players square up to hit the ball just like she does for a whole seven minutes before she got distracted.
They play the "law and order" theme after Lawrence Butler hits a homer. Brent Rooker's walkup music is Fleetwood Mac which is way cooler than it's supposed to be. I missed an ejection in the first when the ump threw out the A's hitting coach for some reason, and missed out on the spectacle of the guy trudging down the third base line towards the ridiculously placed outfield clubhouses.
I was dapped up at least a dozen times. One unnamed staff member asked if we could trade shirts - sorry bro, this was from Oaklandish. A very drunk guy in a Giants jacket revealed a full A's themed sleeve tattoo. Before I could ask him more about his situation he started yelling "DID KC KILL MAC DRE?" And, of course, Stomper left me hanging on a high five, rubbing his chest to signify that he couldn't interact with someone wearing such a shirt.
There were no drums, no "whoop whooping" when the visitors bullpen is warming up, no Hal the Hot Dog Guy. Theres a three year funeral to what used to be, happening in my backyard, good seats still available. The people have lost the war against baseball fascism, a failed rebellion against the heir to the GAP fortune, but at least I got to wear this shirt again and snub my nose at the Empire.
Much love, Oakland.