The Oakland Athletics will soon pass into history, serving as a powerful tether to the past for many, including me who found, through the team, a sense of belonging amid cultural dislocation. As a child of immigrants from the Philippines, I felt an intense tension between my parents’ differing attitudes towards assimilation. My father was indifferent, his interest in sport tied largely to gambling, while my mother insisted on keeping a connection to our Filipino roots. This nostalgic contradiction left me feeling slightly unmoored until baseball, and its quintessential American allure, presented itself to me.
The Oakland A’s were my introduction to baseball and, as I watched their antics every day after school, it became an avenue through which I could engage with my peers and society at large. It was the late ‘80s, a time when the A’s were at their zenith; iconic players such as the Bash Brothers, Rickey Henderson, Dave Stewart, Mark McGwire, and Dennis Eckersley reigned supreme, their feats on the baseball diamond erasing the need for any cultural proficiency to appreciate the sport.
My summers became devoted to the game. I collected baseball cards, played baseball video games on my Nintendo, and provided my own play-by-play commentary peppered with phrases borrowed from legendary commentator Bill King. As my siblings became older, they joined me in this passion, further solidifying baseball’s place in our lives. Years on, it gave us a common ground, another shared experience to relish.
More than just a game, baseball provided me with a direction. While playing was out of the question, writing about baseball felt attainable. Aspirations of making it to the press box someday began to develop and, fortuitously, they materialized. The arrival of the Hall of Fame ballot every fall, or witnessing landmark moments in the sport such as Derek Jeter’s 3,000th hit or the Chicago Cubs’ first World Series win, all became treasured memories. These magical moments, unimaginable without the Oakland A’s, gave me an inkling of what it feels like to achieve a lifelong dream.
Baseball also became a hardy constant throughout my life, coloring my interactions with family and friends. Subtle baseball traditions found their way into cherished family gatherings, and even our tribute to a lost sister. She now rests with the jersey of her favorite A’s player, Eric Chavez. It even played a part in the romance with my wife, a Yankees fan, who thrilled in luring me into watching the film “Moneyball”, just to see the suffering of my team at the hands of hers. Incredibly, we live in a house where a ballgame is always on, a tradition we hope to pass onto our kids.
In thanking the Oakland A’s, don’t miss the point about baseball: it’s more than just a sport. From 57 years of summer afternoons to the Big Three, and the unexpected 20-game winning streak; the A’s gave a lucky kid the chance to morph into a luckier man. As they fade into history, the hope persists that somewhere, be it in Sacramento or Las Vegas, another child will be touched by the captivating magic of having a baseball team of their own.
