As tens of thousands of hungry, championship-deprived fans flooded the streetsÂ for the Giants’ victory paradeÂ on Wednesday, reporters remarked on the scent of marijuana in the air and Aubrey Huff’s “lucky red thong.” Welcome to San Francisco.
Politics is inherent here, a city best known for Haight Ashbury and the Summer of Love. San Francisco is a city out of time, a city whose perspective is still defiantly clouded by that formerly blissful psychadelic haze. It’s not that everyone smokes pot in San Francisco; not everyone is a tree-hugging liberal either, but it’s how the country identifies us, a historical mnemonic device.
Who better embodies this imagined San FranciscoÂ ethos than the Giants, a ragtag band of self-described “misfits”?Â Phillies fansÂ whistled catcalls at our star pitcher Tim Lincecum because he had long hair; Josh Hamilton said he could smell marijuana from the field at AT&T Park. This was conservative America facing downÂ its liberal demons, replete with George W. Bush in the stands.
What to make of the fact that the Giants won the World Series the same year that Republicans mounted an aggressive political comeback? It keeps things in perspective and reminds people that there still exists another way. Our ideals may appear too ethereal in San Francisco, and we may not be considered all that grounded, but we do represent a different way, and that’s what reallyÂ needs to be celebrated.