In the nearly 17 MLB seasons that I’ve known my wife, she has never shown defeat — despite being a staunchly afflicted supporter of the Oakland Athletics.
A Chicana, her childhood home in East Oakland once offered a glimpse of the nearby Coliseum, where she attended countless games, relished fireworks nights, and enjoyed $2 tickets and $1 hot dogs with her younger siblings. Like so many East Bay families must, she developed a pragmatic survivalism early on. She is, after all, a woman who powered herself through UC Berkeley on a full-ride scholarship to become a first-generation college grad and, later, a public educator in the area.