The Giants were more than an hour into their world-championship party, and it wasn't slowing down. A baseball field in Texas had become their San Francisco. Hundreds of fans gathered behind the dugout, shouting and chanting in their orange-and-black garb. The players had all come out to greet them, showing off the massive gold trophy and hugging each other over a truly stunning achievement.
San Francisco Giants. Born, 1958. Blessed, 2010.
It was a mixture of tears and embraces and looks of childlike wonder. The players had been inside the clubhouse after the final out, spraying Champagne on each other like wild men, but the scope of their triumph was realized on this empty field, the clock approaching 11 p.m., without a sign of the Rangers, their fans or anything Texas.