is a picture of myself in an orange Giants jersey surrounded by my two sons in off white and black jerseys in front of the poster of a 1951 Sey Hey Kid playing stickball in Harlem, in front of us is a gleaming golden trophy courtesy of the 2010 version of the San Francisco Giants. I have the championship banner on my wall and a framed photograph of us and the trophy that also includes my wife and daughter and a SF Chroncile from November 2, 2010 in my arms. I own a coffee mug, a WS Championship hoodie and five or so hats...

Today those things give me some comfort and a modicum of the sense of the fragility of life (had Buster Posey been correctly called out on his steal attempt of Game One against the Braves, the whole thing could have broke very differently....if you get my drift). I try not to revel in the misery of other teams when bad things happen. Once, the Dodgers lost a game by giving up some absurd amount of runs in the bottom on the ninth and my first thought was "what if that had been the Giants..."

I guess my point is I will always love the Giants and always root for them, always have hope for another World Series Championship. But for most of my life (which is more than half over by a spell) my mantra was "just let them win once before I die"...and they did. I am not even mad at Melky, he clearly made a stupid mistake and how it does not cost us a playoff spot is hard to fathom. I am disappointed Timmy can't throw less than 35 pitches every first inning but then i remember the same game Buster was out at second and called safe and November 1, 2010 and I have to say "I 'm sorry."

Someone I love dearly claims I will never be truly happy until i let go of my Giants obsession. Days like this make her words ring true.