The Game: *
The Bar: ***
The Fans: **
It’s twilight in Cole Valley. A six-piece string band has assembled on the sidewalk in front of Cole Garage. They’re picking bluegrass tunes for a small crowd of passersby: couples strolling toward Padrecito, Zazie, and Kezar; young families heading home from Crepes on Cole, Burgermeister, and The Ice Cream Bar. It’s all very Portland.
But I’m late. The game has already started, and I don’t have time to fawn over all the preciousness. I swing open the door to Finnegan’s Wake, finding basketball on one TV and hockey on the other.
“Think we can turn on the Giants game?” I ask the tattooed bartender. She spends the next seven or eight minutes trying to find the game, pausing twice to serve customers who, understandably, have grown impatient. I feel bad. So I sit there with my tequila and soda, and I turn anxiously from one TV to another, hoping maybe the game has magically appeared on one of them.
Then I realize: NBC.
“Ah, normal TV,” the bartender says, quickly flipping the channel.
I thank her, but my gratitude is short-lived. Though the Giants have already scored, so too have the Dodgers. It’s the bottom of the first inning, and Ryan Vogelsong has already given up one run (a leadoff homer to Joc Pederson). No biggie, though: The Giants retire the next two batters.
But then it’s Adrian Gonzalez, who slams another solo shot. Then Vogelsong gives up a walk. Then Andre Ethier bangs out a two-run homer. Three home runs to kick off the first inning.
“That’s it,” my dad texts me. “The bird has sung his last song.”
Things don’t get much better, with Jimmy Rollins hammering another home run in the third inning, giving the Dodgers four dingers on the night. Final score: 7-3, Dodgers.
But there are at least two bright spots in Wednesday night’s game: the Brandons. Crawford goes two for three, crushing a double and a two-run homer, while Belt goes two for four, earning a double and an RBI. Both of them are hitting a paltry .235 on the season, though lately Belt has shown considerable improvement: In the last five games he’s gone five for 12 at the plate.
Now, had I been watching the game at home, I would have been hurling vitriol at the TV, moping around the house. But I’m at the bar. Finnegan’s Wake. And I’m not moping. No vitriol.
I’m with Sara (an old friend who lives in the neighborhood) and her boyfriend, Ron. And despite the shellacking taking place behind us, on the TV, we’re on our way to merriment. First stop: the jukebox, which is stocked with all of my classic rock favorites, from Alice Cooper to ZZ Top. Then it’s off to the pool table. Or should we hit the ping pong table on the patio instead? Of course, there’s always pinball, too.
Indeed, there’s no lack of entertainment to be found at Finnegan’s Wake. If only the same could be said for the Giants.
OneSixTwo 