The concrete crypt that is baseball in Oakland still offers some appeal, although the experience is most likely to charm someone who is either too true a believer to know better or who had never previously experienced the magic of the Coliseum's Kremlin-style architecture. Thus the news that our much beloved Comrade Anantharaman was making her first trip to what the locals used to call "the Mausoleum" inspired us to try and capture the moments of discovery that would flood her senses, and maybe also show her the toe to which the game has tied its coroner's tag.
Fortunately for her, Comrade Redford was part of the traveling party as well, which left two people who see the good in others and their surroundings to steel themselves against the scheduled indignities of Mariners-A's on a Wednesday night in September when the Mariners are barely in the wild card race and the A's are already sewing "West Sacramento" on their baseball underpants. The comrades would have fun if they had to dig beneath the asphalt to find it; Comrade Anantharaman wanted to experience Oakland baseball as part of what is apparently a very long baseball bucket list, and Comrade Redford just has a good attitude in general.
