You said you wanted me to blog about my one game at Candlestick Park, so here it is. The date was June 11, 1993. I was 15 years old. I was with my dad. And unfortunately this is going to be a VERY short entry because I only have two photos. Here I am standing outside the gates . . .
. . . and here I am during batting practice:
(In the photo above, I’m standing on the left, looking at the camera.)
I only snagged one ball that day, and I remember it well. It was a foul grounder during BP that took me by surprise and skipped right up to me out of nowhere . . . off the bullpen mound, I think. I don’t know why I was wasting my time in foul territory — perhaps because there was a separate entrance for the bleachers and I couldn’t get over there?
This was only the 6th major league stadium that I’d ever been to. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. All I can tell you is that the Giants beat the Cubs that day, 7-2, and when Barry Bonds homered off Dan Plesac, I was sitting somewhere between home plate and the 3rd-base dugout.