Like so many San Francisco Giants fans, I tuned into Sunday’s season finale from afar, watching the game on a slowly-dying Costco TV, from my vaguely-Giants colored reading chairs rather than in person, from the most gorgeous ballpark ever imagined.
Like so many, I stood and applauded, alone in my apartment, as Brandon Crawford took his first at-bat of the afternoon; and again when he took his last; and again when he was removed from the game. A tear came and went, followed by a second.
It felt distinctly different from Madison Bumgarner’s farewell pinch-hit appearance, or Bruce Bochy’s final tip of the cap in 2019.