Just before game time, here's a picture of the big board welcoming people to the game. BASFA got a name check on the board later in the game, but I didn't get a picture of it.
Here was our section of the box, as far as the first set of Tensabarrier separating us from a group of Dodger fans there to cheer on the visiting Rancho Cucamonga Quakes.
Here's the rest of our box. Jerry Majors-Patterson at left had just turned away as I took this shot, so you can't see that she was dressed as Barf from Spaceballs. Alas, she wasn't able to find Dark Helmet and had to do with the Giants' recycling bins, which have a black batter's helmet on them.
This is the view of the field from our box, during first pitch.
BASFA Secretary Barbara Johnson-Haddad and President Trey Haddad were present. Trey threatened to convene an official BASFA meeting (there being a quorum more than present) and declare a Pun Jar, but thought better of it.
Being so close to the field means you need to keep your head up for foul balls. We had one hit into our box, and John O'Halloran fielded it wearing his Chewbacca outfit.
A splendid time was had by all BASFAn, but unfortunately not by the Giants. The Quakes pitchers had a combined no-hitter through seven innings until the Giants' bats finally came to life in the eighth. With the bases loaded and the Giants trailing 7-2, the Quakes pitcher hit the batter, forcing in another run and bringing the tying run to the plate. The batter hit a soaring fly ball that unfortunately didn't quite have the legs to find the fence and thus the game-tying grand slam didn't happen. The Quakes went on the win 7-3.
I invited any curious BASFAns willing to make the trip out to the back corner of the parking lot (where I carefully had triple-checked that the headlights were out before I parked there) who wanted to see where I live when I'm doing these extended stints in the Bay Area, and three took me up on it. After giving them the Cook's tour of the Rolling Stone, they headed off shivering (after sundown, the overcast moved in and it got chilly) and I set off for my usual overnight layup spot. I was very tired and it was not difficult to get to sleep.
One thing that still puzzles me, though, is why so many people I meet in the Bay Area think I live so close. I tell people I live 30 miles east of Reno, and they say, "That's a four hour drive, right." I tell them, "You can drive 300 miles in four hours? Remind me not to ever ride with you!" While if you could average 75 miles an hour, you could do it, I don't see how one could ever do that. While I was passed by a few people out on I-5 this afternoon who seemed to trying to do that, not only do I generally not drive that much over the speed limit, but the RV isn't even capable of going that fast, save downhill with a tailwind.