While I give thanks for Mike Krukow and Duane Kuiper and love the way that they broadcast Giants games, there is one glaring error in their take on a perfect afternoon at SBC Park. The San Francisco fan kit, according to Kruk and Kuip, should include the following:
- Giants Cap
- Cold Beverage
- Gilroy Garlic Fries
- Headphone radio and Score book (optional)
Now I love my baseball glove more than any romantic interest I have ever had in my quarter-century on this green earth. However, unless I am patrolling the outfield in beer-league softball, it should not grace my presence while watching a ballgame from the safety of the stands.
Just as I admire Vladimir Guerrero and Moises Alou for refusing to don batting gloves, I also admire the fan who bare-hands a screaming liner into the seats. The slap of bone, flesh, and leather careening together is a reminder to souvenir seekers just how hard these guys can hit the ball.
The baseball owners association needs to ban the use of gloves by any male or female over the age of 12 in order to quell the age of wussies that is dawning. Without a glove, people will be forced to focus more on the action at hand.
The debutantes and businessmen with the phones surgically attached to their ears may think twice about their actions when they are staring down a frozen rope without the use of a 13-inch rawhide security blanket. With this added attentiveness and concentration, parents can teach the game to their children, and the aforementioned debutantes can work on their tans and hand-eye coordination at the same time.
Also, if gloves were outlawed in ballparks, we would not have the displeasure of having Steve Bartman and Jeffrey Maier as household names. With this rule put in place, Morganna the kissing bandit, would be the only reference to fan interference in the history of sports.
I went to a game in Sacramento to watch the River Cats, the triple-A affiliate for the Oakland Athletics, and witnessed the harm a glove can do firsthand. A ball was popped out of play a few rows behind me and my friends, and as we tracked this pop-up, our eyes fixed on a man with his girlfriend/wife, mid-twenties with his glove above his head.
On his face was a "don't worry baby, I'll save you" look. This ball was a can-of-corn for any mediocre fan, so we all figured it would be no problem for the dude with the slab of beef on his left hand. We were wrong.
The guy misjudged the ball and blindsided his lady right in the nose, causing blood and mayhem. I am not arguing that this man would have caught the ball had he ditched his glove and gone Omar Vizquel with the bare hand. Nevertheless at least he would have had an excuse and not, I would assume, be in the doghouse for many weeks after the incident.
In conclusion, the fans of baseball all over the globe need to work on their fundamentals and calluses, because when I take over as the voice of the Giants, anyone caught by the camera flaunting leather will be eliminated on the telestrator. Leave the gloves to the kids and quit trying to live out your lost dreams in section 227, row H, seat 17.