I don't write about baseball often (maybe just once?) and I wouldn't consider myself the kind of fan that boasts or boos. ("Boo" is a term of endearment, not an insult.) I started following the A's well after their 20 game streak, at a time when most people had given up on the team and were surprised if they'd made it over .500 for the season.
That being said, I've never felt so much heart around one team. Even before this season. I was once at the bottom of the theater of Epidauros in Greece, wearing an A's hat and a fellow fan, on the other side of the world, asked how the team was doing. And the time I was in Wales wearing my Harden jersey when one of the quietest kids in my group came up to me to talk about the team.
I'd always remembered those moments but it wasn't until this season that I'd really felt that Oakland love in a way that makes your heart melt with pride. It wasn't just winning the AL West when, at the beginning of the season, sportswriters everywhere expected them to trail at third or fourth in the division.
It was a team unknown to anyone but Oakland making waves with their 17 consecutive games with home runs, their All-Star rookie pitchers, their August 21st triple play, their absolutely [Reddick]ulous outfield, their out-of-nowhere sweeps, their walk-off pies, their
Bernie lean. It was this team that brought the green and gold sea of fans back home to the Coliseum with blood, sweat, and pie.
Never been more proud of the green and gold. Well done, boys. Well done.