Take Me Out to the Ballgame

October 17, 1989. 5 o'clock.

Everywhere in the region, thousands upon thousands of fans prepare for the third installation of the Battle of the Bay. The world watches with bated breath to see who will win this local conflict. And at the southern edge of town, the most determined, loyal fans gather at Candlestick Park. The game is about to begin.

But first, we find two friends - Alphonse and Charlie - at the back of the beer line. One is dressed in gaudy orange, the other in muted green. How can they possibly be friends? Indeed, they certainly don't sound friendly right about now. Let's listen in:

"We're gonna win today. I'm sure of it," says Alphonse.

"Are you crazy?" asks Charlie, "You lost the first two games, and you're going to lose this one. Keep dreaming."

"Y'all only have two good pitchers, and they had their shot. On the other hand, we got three good ones left. We're gonna win all three at Candlestick and then we only have to win one at the Coliseum. I like our odds. The Giants are gonna be World Champions. Get used to it."

"You're delusional, Alphonse."

"Am I? Our pitcher is a Silver Slugger. You hear that? A Silver Slugger. Has yours even ever held a bat?"

"He doesn't have to. He's a pitcher."

"He has to today. That's why we're going to win."

"Delusional. But if you're so sure, I'll make you a bet," says Charlie, "If your precious Giants win today, I'll buy your beers for a whole year. Otherwise, you're buying all the beers until the next Series."

"Fine by me. But you might as well get your wallet out now in preparation."

Charlie rolls his eyes; his friend can be very arrogant. Plus, they're not even close to the counter.

"Speaking of beers, is this line going to move today?" he asks, "I want a beer, but I'm not missing the first three innings for one."

"Chill, Charlie. It's only five past. The game starts in half an hour. We've got time. It's not like--"

Alphonse stops. Freezes. He hears something. Charlie hears it too; a faint grumbling under their feet and all around them. And then that grumbling erupts into thunderous alarm and the earth begins to shake.

"Shit, it's the big one!"

Quick like a bullet, Alphonse leaps out of line and scurries under a reinforced pillar. He looks back for his friend. That idiot Charlie is still in line. He can barely keep his feet solidly on the ground, but by sheer force of will, he keeps his place in line.

"You're exaggerating, Alphonse," he yells over the roar of the earth, "It's not the big one."

"Of course it's the big one! Go hide under something, you moron!"

"I'm not about to give up my spot in line because of a little shaking."

"Good God, you're crazy! You're going to kill yourself over a beer!"

"I'm telling you, it's not the big one."

And then the earth quiets down. The crowd not so much, and not the alarms of every car in the city, but at least the earth has shut up. For now, the shaking is over. Around them, people pick themselves up and emerge from their hiding places. No one is hurt here, at least, but the electricity is down. Everyone is shaken and anxious.

Only a quarter of the beer line remains. Quickly, people rejoin it. If ever there were a time for a beer, it's now. Alphonse joins Charlie in line. They've moved up quite a bit.

"You see? That wasn't the big one. And now we're first in line."