OAKLAND — One crowd in The Town was buzzing.
It featured a line around the block at first pitch, with hundreds of folks looking to fill the already-full stands. Merch and specialty beers were selling as fast as vendors could tap credit cards. And seemingly everyone was wearing green. There was even a tifo and some drums in left field.
The chants of “Let’s go Oakland” received full, enthusiastic participation.
The other crowd in The Town had some life, too, I suppose. Someone brought a vuvuzela to the park. That was annoying, but it made some noise. But there wasn’t much demand to get in the door, and the “Let’s Go Oakland” chants were limp, and oftentimes a solo affair for one guy behind home plate. There was a single, solitary flag being waved by a fan in right field.
Which one was the independent-league crowd?
Which one was watching a Major League Baseball game?
The Oakland Ballers made their home debut Tuesday at a new stadium in Raimondi Park in West Oakland and it was an event. The crowd might have failed to yell out Too Short’s favorite word, but Mistah F.A.B. was in there, providing undeniable legitimacy to the proceedings.
Less than a year after the team was founded, the Pioneer League operation put on an exceptional, professional show. That’s a laudable accomplishment in itself.
For there to be so much enthusiasm for the B’s — even though no one who came to the game could possibly name any player on the field — is downright astounding.
But anyone who knows the East Bay and Oakland community could have seen it coming.
The B’s were founded after the A’s move to Las Vegas became official in November. We’ll see if the A’s ever do move to Las Vegas, but we know their time in Oakland ends after this season.
The B’s are supposed to fill the void.
The cynic would justly ask how an independent league team, playing in West Oakland city park could do that.
The answer is, of course, that they can’t.
Oakland deserves to be a major-league city. At one time, it was the home to an NBA, MLB, NHL, and NFL team. Alameda and Contra Costa Counties alone (hardly all of the East Bay) have a population that adds up to roughly half a million more people than the entire Kansas City metro.
And yet when the A’s leave at the end of the season, The Town will be devoid of a big-league team. It’s tragic.
But going to both the A’s and B’s games Tuesday — it was baseball night in Oakland for yours truly — forced me to ask a larger question:
Does it matter if Oakland doesn’t have a big-league team?
If the B’s can bring together the community as they did Tuesday night, there’s an undeniable and defiant answer:
No.
It was only one night — the first night — for the B’s. There’s a long, long, long way to go, and it’s impossible to predict the future of the operation.
After all, the Oakland Roots — the region’s original spite team — might sell a ton of T-shirts and hats, but they haven’t actually played in The Town in years. Such are the perils of the minor leagues.
But the B’s outstanding first night creates some serious momentum. If they can maintain it or even grow it, they can become a centerpiece of Oakland life.
And isn’t that the goal?
Major league, minor league, no league — in this balkanized world, where everyone chooses their own truths and realities, sports are one of the last unifying forces.
They can help create connection and community.
And it’s that power that must be cherished and nurtured. It deserves reverence — it’s a sacred, too-often unspoken pact between a team and the places they call home.
Only one team understands that, and it’s not the one with some of the best baseball players in the world on the roster.
The A’s have treated the fans — even their most loyal customers — as suckers for too many years to count.
The B’s seem earnest in their mission of being fan-first. Time will tell if they can maintain that standard.
But the juxtaposition between the two teams — and the two crowds — on Tuesday was jarring; a stark reminder that in this world, you get what you give.
The A’s claimed to have roughly 1,000 more fans in the Coliseum stands than the B’s had at the capacity Raimondi (though I think the A’s were counting the dogs as it was Bark in the Park night).
I’d rather be with the 4,000-something at Raimondi cheering on a bunch of nobodies.
The crowd in some wobbly bleachers in a public park in West Oakland — that collection of punks, toddlers, beer dads, and baseball dorks having a party on a Tuesday — was the perfect encapsulation of what the A’s (and the Raiders and Warriors before them) squandered.
The A’s can abandon Oakland in search of a slightly greener pasture (if you catch my drift).
But you can’t buy the earnest energy I felt Tuesday on the west side of town, an energy that used to exist on the east side, once upon a time.
That was Oakland at its best. Stack it up against anyone else’s best — it’s just as good.
And it isn’t going anywhere, even if the A’s are high-tailing it out of town.
Who cares if the East Bay isn’t “big league” anymore?
I want to be part of whatever the B’s had going on Tuesday.
Because I’ll pick The Town any day.