I've had this dream every year for the last 50 years.
As we reach the end of the 4th of July weekend, when everybody (at least all sane-minded individuals) is thinking about our national past time, nostalgia has grabbed me again.
As an eight-year-old boy living in Pittsburg, Calif., in August of 1960, I was sitting down the left field line in Candlestick Park, complaining about the cold, when an older fan next to me said, "this is a whole lot better than Seals Park."
I looked at him like he was an alien from some distant planet. He went on to talk about some guy with a funny nickname of Say Hey, and another guy, Willie Mac, and several others I don't remember. He also told me to enjoy these times because they are the best.
That was the start of my dream: A world series victory for those guys in orange and black.
In 1962, I dreamt that Willie Mac hit his ball two feet higher (or that Bobby Richardson was two feet shorter).
In 1963, surely with three brothers named Alou, I dreamed the baseball gods would smile upon us.
Throughout the '60s, with our June swoons and second-place finishes to the "Devil" Dodgers, I dreamed. Gaylord threw a no-hitter in '68, Willie Mac won MVP in '69, and still I dreamed.
Clemente and the Pirates lost to us in '71, in my dream.
In '78, I dreamed that we didn't blow a lead to...yup, the Dodgers.
In '81, Joe Morgan hit a home run to keep LA out of it, but in my dream, we went instead of the Braves.
My dream turned into a nightmare in '85 when we lost 100 games for the first time in franchise history. But next year we would have Roger Craig and "Humm Baby."
In 1987, I dreamed that Candy Maldonado didn't drop that ball in Game Six and we didn't have to face John Tudor in Game Seven.
My dreams were happy in '93. Peter Magowan kept us out of St. Petersburg and a fellow named Barry joined us. But my dream failed me that year when we won 103 games and the Braves came from 10 games back to beat us.
I dreamed that we beat Florida in '97, and I dreamed that I was able to attend the last game at Candlestick in '99. In my dream the Mets didn't beat us in 2000 and '02 was a for sure win until Dusty replaced Ortiz in the seventh inning of Game Six. In '03, my dream had us beating Florida—after all, we were in first place from start to finish.
I'm still dreaming, but with the young players we are developing, those dreams may come to fruition. Sabean, please do not trade my future dreams away.