I dreamt about Candlestick last night.
Not the games.
But the long cold hikes to and from The Stick.
Over the bridge
Through the tunnel
Fighting the crowds
Past the pretzel guy
Into the neighborhoods where I was always surprised to find the locals were also Giants fans.
But also to.
When I was younger and we parked in the lots.
And passed the tailgaters
And entered through Gate A with the escalator and wound our way clockwise to the 3rd base side where we used to sit before we started buying tickets behind the plate.
The games never featured.
Instead it was the anticipation
The leaving the everyday world to go to a ball game.
And then the rough return back through the cold night
Peeling off the tundra kit and driving back home