Well my friends, it's that time of the year. The time of year when the boys of summer become the men of fall and head to the World Series. Two years ago I was in a quandary on whom to pull for in the Series, my beloved Texas Rangers or the team of my youth, the San Francisco Giants. My sisters, son-in-law, and I had some rather interesting banter going on when I declared my loyalty for the Rangers, they are a must read. Unfortunately, the Rangers left me hanging. Sigh. I was a gracious loser.
Last year the choice of whom to cheer on to victory was an easy one, the Rangers of course, never having been a St. Louis Cardinal fan. My Rangers fought a good fight but once again left me hanging. Double sigh.
This year, the Rangers, the best team in the American league imploded in the home stretch and, repeat after me, I was left hanging. However, the team of my youth, the San Francisco Giants are in the race once again. I'm in flux wondering if I can cheer on the weirdness that is the SF Giants. Yes, they are a weird lot, the guys on the team and the fans in the stands. They have Mr. I Need a Haircut, Mr. Orange Mohawk, and Mr. Grecian Formula can-that-beard-be-real is still there. And then there are the fans in the stands, I have one question, what's up with grown men wearing panda caps/hats/heads.
Oh, can I even bring myself to say this, I will keep my heart deep with the Texas Rangers but I will meander it back to the City by the Bay for a few games since I absolutely detest the Detroit Tigers. I will not wear anything panda-esque nor will I fear the beard, shave it yes, fear it, never.