Last night, I was all set to deliver some photos and commentary on yet another cap from a previous year's All-Star Game when I realized the whole night had escaped me because I was watching a baseball game between the two worst teams in the AL West: the Los Angeles Angels and the Oakland A's. The only explanation as to why I put myself through such an ordeal is because one of my favorite former San Francisco Giants, Tim Lincecum, was on the mound for the Angels. To say I still have fond memories of The Freak is an understatement. To me, he symbolized the beginning of the current Golden Era of Giants baseball but of course the fact that I just called it a Golden Era will jinx them and they will be bad for the next 40 years. I think I just jinxed that jinx and they'll be good instead now but baseball is weird. I guess I'm weird too because superstition drove me to think that the safest way to ensure Tim Lincecum would be lights out last night (spoiler: he wasn
I'm a life-long baseball addict. Now I'm documenting it.