Last night, I let my kids stay up past their bedtime to watch the Giants make a clean sweep of the World Series. Too bad they missed the final pitch against Cabrera; my boys were too busy having a rousing dose of sibling rivalry over refrigerator magnets. Still, my third grader had a hard time falling asleep last night. “I’m just too excited to sleep, Mom,” he whispered in the dark. “The Giants are champions again!”
In 2010 when the Giants won the World Series, I had just delivered my second son. We were back in the hospital with a case of newborn jaundice. Watching the Giants on the hospital room TV helped get my mind off the stress I felt worrying about my baby. Now, I’m pregnant with my third child, leaving my whole family to joke that my Buddha bellies must be a good luck charm for the Giants. I wonder if the same can be said for The Panda’s belly? That belly helped him swing his way into MVP!
While we aren’t a major sports family, the Giants is a team that my son adores. He follows their games, has his favorite players (right now it’s Lincecum and Sandoval), and would love to actually see a game at AT&T Park. I’ve been toying with the idea of taking him out of school to go to the Giants Parade on Wednesday. But I’m not sure I’m brave enough to deal with the traffic and the crowds. I’d need my own trophy at the end of it. And by trophy, I mean a make-out session with Angel Pagan.
Instead, I may be spending the morning on a desperate run to find my son a Buster Posey jersey. He’s decided he wants to be Buster Posey for Halloween now. You know, the Halloween that is just two days away. The Halloween where we’ve had his costume ready to go for weeks. I wonder if I can just give him a baseball glove and a hockey mask to wear with his Grim Reaper costume. After all, the Giants did kill the Tigers.
Photo credit: Associated Press, Business Insider