Good morning, McCoven!
Yesterday, an email went out to Giants fans everywhere. It was a letter sent “from the desk of Bruce Bochy” in which he extends his thanks and sentiments about his time in San Francisco.
For those who can’t see social media posts, here is the full letter:
To the greatest fans in baseball:
When I arrived in San Francisco in 2007 as the new Giants manager, I knew I was coming into a storied franchise. I studied up on the team’s history. I read a biography of John McGraw, the New York Giants’ legendary manager. But they didn’t prepare me for the actual experience. Legends walked the hallways. Those first few years, I’d have to remind myself that the guy who just left my office was Willie Mays. I felt a tremendous sense of pride, and also responsibility, in being part of that amazing history.
When we finished fifth in the NL West my first season, and fourth in my second, no one would have blamed Larry Baer and Brian Sabean if they had made a change. But they stuck with me, and you did, too. You can’t imagine what that does for a manager. This game is hard. It tests you mentally and physically every day, for six or seven straight months. You fail way more than you succeed. So the company you keep matters. Not just the GM, or the owners, or the players, but everyone – and in particular the fans who were willing to trust me even before I had earned it.
To be honest, the depth of love this community has for the Giants probably surprised me more than anything else when I took the job. I often saw it from the opposing dugout but you can’t really know it until you experience it here, up close and personal. Every day, I’d step onto the field and see all three decks filled with people in orange and black, in panda hats, giraffe hats, and fake beards. You were loud and rowdy. You were fanatical. And you were fiercely loyal. Starting in our 2010 postseason run through 2017, you set a franchise record, selling out 530 games. I was in awe. It was the second-longest sellout streak in MLB history.
After 40 years in this game, I am absolutely certain there was not, and is not, a better fan base than the one I was fortunate enough to enjoy here for thirteen years. When we won the 2010 World Series, people came up to me in grocery stores and restaurants to tell me how much the championship meant to their mother or even their grandmother, how long they’d been waiting, how happy they were. To know that our team brought joy to the community also brought joy to our players and me because that’s what we play for. Without you, there is no baseball, no business, no television or talk radio, and no opportunity to compete.
I have learned so much as the manager of the San Francisco Giants. About loyalty, sacrifice, trust, courage and resilience. I learned to look beyond the impossible, to “never say die,” that “torture” is better than going home, and together WE ARE GIANT!
Perhaps the most important thing I learned was belief. When people believe in you — I mean really believe in you — you feel invincible. Our guys never doubted that misfortune could be overcome, failure could turn to success, and that they would beat the seemingly insurmountable odds. That is the secret to our three World Series Championships. As players and coaches, we believed in each other, and you believed in us. We did this… TOGETHER. That kind of chemistry is an extraordinary thing. So as I walk out this door, I want you to know that the bond we shared and the memories we created TOGETHER will last my entire life. I hope that is true for you, too.
Kim and I have grown to love this community. Trust me, I never take for granted how incredibly lucky I am to have managed in this GREAT CITY, with you, our GREATEST FANS, and for this STORIED FRANCHISE. I’m going to miss standing on that rail, looking up and seeing you every day. It is so far beyond anything I ever dared dream as a kid growing up in Florida.
Thank you, it’s been a hell of a ride!