The Register’s Web guy, Brian Kennedy, is a die-hard San Francisco Giants fan. As a byproduct of that devotion, he is a huge follower of Cy Young Award-winning ace pitcher Tim Lincecum.
So, seeing as how Brian is scared to go into the big city by himself, I sucked it up and accompanied him to the Giants’ 16th annual FanFest on Saturday at AT & T Park. Before we go on, some disclaimers:
So, seeing as how Brian is scared to go into the big city by himself, I sucked it up and accompanied him to the Giants’ 16th annual FanFest on Saturday at AT & T Park. Before we go on, some disclaimers:
• FanFest was free to the public, a big feather in the cap to the Giants in this dismal, downtrodden joke of an economy.
• On the whole, the thousands of people who showed up seemed to have a good time.
• On the whole, the thousands of people who showed up seemed to have a good time.
• Staff members — especially the ushers — were very friendly and helpful;
• The team did the best it could to accommodate as many people as possible, given the size of the crowd.
• The team did the best it could to accommodate as many people as possible, given the size of the crowd.
• Brian and I would probably go again, with one small but significant change to the procedure for getting autographs.
We arrived nice and early. Brian brought his Sports Illustrated with Lincecum on the cover and a blue Sharpie pen.
We soon found out that there is absolutely zero advantage to getting there early, because once the gates open it’s a free-for-all.
Here was the basic set-up for the event, which ran from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Four autograph stations were set up throughout the ballpark, and three or four players and/or coaches were at each station for an hour. They then were supposed to rotate to the other stations.
However, when we took a lap around the park in the first hour to scout out all four stations, Lincecum was nowhere to be found.
A staffer told us he was at a VIP party in the suites, for which you needed a ticket.
We asked her when he would be going down to the regular stations, and she said she didn’t think he would be because he was “so popular.”
Not what we wanted to hear. Our theory was that there was no way Lincecum could blow off the general public.
For weeks before the event, radio station KNBR 680 AM — the main sponsor of the event — had run commercials with Lincecum himself saying, “Come out to FanFest, me and my teammates will be signing autographs ...”
That would leave the average guy — and if you look up “average guy” in the dictionary, Brian’s picture will be there — to believe that you can get a Lincecum autograph at FanFest.
The truth was, the autograph lines were so long that there was no guarantee you would even meet the players before the hour was up.
Brian’s strategy, eventually adopted by many, was to pick a line and hope that the right players rotated into your station by the time you made it up to the front.
(The strategy worked out for me, because I got to meet Will Clark, one of my all-time favorites. Many, many people did not.)
Two things happened at this point:
1. People toward the front of each of the lines started telling others to “go ahead, I’m waiting” ... meaning if you really wanted the signature of third base coach Ron Wotus — who rotated into our station twice, by the way — you could take cuts. If you were in the back of the line and you really wanted to meet somebody like Will Clark, Matt Cain or Randy Johnson (the other one), well, better luck next year.
2. Brian and I started to realize we might strike out, and like the rest of the masses, starting panicking.
It was truly a magnificent example of crowd psychology.
With Brian holding our place in one line, I would take a lap around the park each hour to see who had rotated in to the other three stations.
Out of the five signing hours, I went on three laps. I never saw Lincecum or heard anybody buzzing about where he was.
It’s possible he signed autographs for two of the five hours, precisely the two hours in which I did not take a lap. But — and I can’t prove this — I don’t think he ever signed for the general public.
If I’m wrong, I apologize to the Giants in advance.
I wouldn’t be writing this if Brian and I, speaking on behalf of many Giants fans, didn’t feel somewhat taken — specifically by the KNBR commercial.
If Lincecum himself wouldn’t have said it on air, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that he was being saved for the VIPs and sponsors.
We arrived nice and early. Brian brought his Sports Illustrated with Lincecum on the cover and a blue Sharpie pen.
We soon found out that there is absolutely zero advantage to getting there early, because once the gates open it’s a free-for-all.
Here was the basic set-up for the event, which ran from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Four autograph stations were set up throughout the ballpark, and three or four players and/or coaches were at each station for an hour. They then were supposed to rotate to the other stations.
However, when we took a lap around the park in the first hour to scout out all four stations, Lincecum was nowhere to be found.
A staffer told us he was at a VIP party in the suites, for which you needed a ticket.
We asked her when he would be going down to the regular stations, and she said she didn’t think he would be because he was “so popular.”
Not what we wanted to hear. Our theory was that there was no way Lincecum could blow off the general public.
For weeks before the event, radio station KNBR 680 AM — the main sponsor of the event — had run commercials with Lincecum himself saying, “Come out to FanFest, me and my teammates will be signing autographs ...”
That would leave the average guy — and if you look up “average guy” in the dictionary, Brian’s picture will be there — to believe that you can get a Lincecum autograph at FanFest.
The truth was, the autograph lines were so long that there was no guarantee you would even meet the players before the hour was up.
Brian’s strategy, eventually adopted by many, was to pick a line and hope that the right players rotated into your station by the time you made it up to the front.
(The strategy worked out for me, because I got to meet Will Clark, one of my all-time favorites. Many, many people did not.)
Two things happened at this point:
1. People toward the front of each of the lines started telling others to “go ahead, I’m waiting” ... meaning if you really wanted the signature of third base coach Ron Wotus — who rotated into our station twice, by the way — you could take cuts. If you were in the back of the line and you really wanted to meet somebody like Will Clark, Matt Cain or Randy Johnson (the other one), well, better luck next year.
2. Brian and I started to realize we might strike out, and like the rest of the masses, starting panicking.
It was truly a magnificent example of crowd psychology.
With Brian holding our place in one line, I would take a lap around the park each hour to see who had rotated in to the other three stations.
Out of the five signing hours, I went on three laps. I never saw Lincecum or heard anybody buzzing about where he was.
It’s possible he signed autographs for two of the five hours, precisely the two hours in which I did not take a lap. But — and I can’t prove this — I don’t think he ever signed for the general public.
If I’m wrong, I apologize to the Giants in advance.
I wouldn’t be writing this if Brian and I, speaking on behalf of many Giants fans, didn’t feel somewhat taken — specifically by the KNBR commercial.
If Lincecum himself wouldn’t have said it on air, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that he was being saved for the VIPs and sponsors.
By RANDY JOHNSON
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