The last three days of major league baseball in Oakland are Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and nobody thinks the atmosphere will be of anything other than performative mopery. Everyone who still cares about them has had months to get used to this, and the crowds over the weekend for the Yankees were 24K, 33K and 23K. Not exactly a rush for the end of an era.
They are right to view this finale with a level of disdain. We do not begrudge the truest believers their sadness, but what they are losing in three days has already been lost. There is no revenge to wreak upon John Fisher, and there is no reason to reward him with the spare change of three final gates. It would be better karmically if the final game attendance was zero.
But it won't be, and most of the people there will make it either a dead man's party or a New Orleans funeral—a tribute to the very thing the recipients of their money are killing. At least the scene will exceed the one when the A's leave West Sacramento, or when their Salt Lake City experiment dies in 2035 because the state has no more water.
To those of you (we see you, Comrade Redford) who are locked in on that Thursday afternoon show—Kumar Rocker v. J.T. Ginn, in case the actual game matters to you—well, bless your hearts and hope for 16 innings. Just remember that for all your waves of morose nostalgia after the last few flat beers in the last few lukewarm kegs, all you'll be doing in the end is waving at people who aren't waving back.
-Ray Ratto
Photo: Trinity Machan/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images
