OAKLAND, Calif. — It was a few hours before the Athletics would play their final game at Oakland Coliseum on Thursday, the end of a 57-year journey of ups and downs, of championship moments and countless forgettable ones, of hoisting trophies and suffering through 100-loss seasons, when a certain song blared throughout the home clubhouse.
It was “American Pie.”
This’ll be the day that I die …
“I’m not sure it’s the best choice for today,” quipped one attendant.
It’s over. These decades spent as an organization in the Bay Area, the place of Reggie Jackson and Rickey Henderson and Dennis Eckersley and Dave Stewart and Rollie Fingers and Catfish Hunter officially done as the team’s home.
The A’s next spring will begin a three-year residency of playing in a minor league ballpark in Sacramento before their permanent move to Las Vegas and a proposed $1.5 billion facility.
It has been some time since the Coliseum was anywhere close to major league standards. It’s still a massive eyesore in all sorts of ways.
But no matter how decrepit the structure remains, this was a green and gold celebration of hugs and smiles, tears and memories. This, a few years after fans adopted the “Rooted in Oakland” motto. It was a day of “Let’s Go Oakland!” chants.
Smiles and tears
“We knew this day would eventually get here, so the emotions have built up over time,” A’s catcher Shea Langeliers said. “It’s happiness and sadness on the same day. We need to take it all in and worry about the future at a later time.
“It should always be about the fans. Ever since I’ve been here, it’s been like one big family. A lot of smiles and tears today.”
Henderson and Stewart threw out first pitches. Former A’s pitcher and Las Vegas native Barry Zito sang the national anthem. Children were handed plastic bags full of Coliseum dirt. Champagne bottles were opened in the press box (by the third inning, no less).
Pictures were snapped on the field and in the stands. A replay of World Series titles played on the video board.
“Thank You Oakland” was scrawled into the outfield grass.
Some compared the moment to a playoff game and funeral at the same time.
People wept.
The signs held aloft were plentiful.
Forever Oakland.
We will never forget our Oakland A’s.
Today there is crying in baseball.
There is no Oakland without the A’s.
And, yes, other not-so-pleasant ones aimed at billionaire A’s owner John Fisher and baseball commissioner Rob Manfred.
Many folks still wore the green shirts with the word “Sell” on the front and the statement “We Are Here!” on the back.
It was also a day of “Sell the team!” chants.
There was a large white banner held across several fans in the right-field bleachers with just one word: unforgivable.
But it also didn’t have the dire feel of when the team’s move to Las Vegas was first announced. It was loud. Cheers hung on every strike and out and hit. It wasn’t a reverse boycott. It was a party. And still, some couldn’t fathom this was a last dance. Even one of the greats.
“I had a big cry this morning,” said Stewart, one of six players to have his number retired by the club, who pitched eight of his 16 major league seasons in Oakland. “I grew up here. Played here. I can’t imagine we’re in this position. I can’t believe this happened.”
It has. It did. And they certainly showed up to say goodbye to the team that won four World Series championships during its time in Oakland while claiming numerous American League MVP awards and Cy Young winners.
The team that averaged less than 10,000 tickets sold per game this season instead welcomed 46,889 on Thursday in a year in which the A’s will be one of the lowest-attended teams in more than four decades of major league baseball.
Tremendous passion
Ken Korach is the former Las Vegas Stars and UNLV announcer who has been calling A’s games for 29 years. He said that Thursday might have been the first time he drove to the Coliseum in the dark.
“It has been really emotional,” said Korach, who makes Las Vegas home in the offseason. “This is about the fans. The Coliseum has a soul. There’s a tremendous passion from these fans.
“There’s a juxtaposition that I haven’t quite wrapped my arms around yet. There is sadness and disappointment, obviously, which is hard to measure. And yet there is still this great passion for the team.
“You want people to have an emotional attachment when you’re on the air. You want people to care. You can’t shut that off just because the team is moving.”
They call him Road Trip Mike. He has been a fan since the 1970s and attended road games for the past five years.
Mike Marler is retired and couldn’t bring himself to watching all six games of this final homestand in person.
“I’ve been crying all week,” he said. “I saw the tough years, the Billy Ball years, the Bash Brothers, Giambi, all of it. I can see myself being anywhere these guys run out of a dugout in the future, whether that’s Sacramento or Las Vegas. Wherever they go, I go.”
It was after Wednesday’s game, a 5-1 loss to the Texas Rangers in the final night game at the Coliseum, when A’s manager Mark Kotsay and his wife, Jamie, strolled to the outfield he once patrolled for the team and waved to those fans still around.
Took some photos. Signed some autographs. Gave some hugs. Had a cry.
“It hits everybody at different times,” Kotsay said Thursday. “Today is a last chapter in all of our lives. I’ve never been to a World Series, but today is one of those days that you could appreciate such emotion. Just the magnitude of it. I’ll cherish this the rest of my life.”
John Quinn attended his second game at the Coliseum during the 1972 World Series against the Cincinnati Reds.
Fifty-two years later, he watched his last. Drove four hours to be here.
“It’s a lot tougher than I thought it would be,” he said. “It’s a business. I get it. But it’s weird to have this Bay Area chapter close, an Oakland chapter. All the memories. All the people I came here with that aren’t around anymore. This is my 297th game. I actually kept track.”
Tears streamed down his face.
Darkness to light
By the time the first pitch arrived, a bright sun had appeared through an ominous gray sky that had overlooked the Coliseum all morning. A shining light in what has been the darkest of times for these fans.
And on this gorgeous day, this final day, this emotional day, this historic day, the A’s beat the Rangers by a score of 3-2.
And over those final three outs, 46,889 rose to their feet.
They were interrupted only by a fan running onto the field and a yellow smoke bomb.
“It wasn’t a full-out Raiders game, but when they stop selling beer, you know,” Kotsay said.
And when it was over to deafening cheers after the final out, the A’s stood along the third-base line as their manager addressed the throng.
“To all of you, on behalf of my staff, myself, the team, all the players and coaches and everyone who ever supported the green and gold, there are no better fans. … I’ll ask you one more time to start the best cheer in baseball …”
And then 46,889 obliged.
“Let’s go Oakland! Let’s go Oakland! Let’s go Oakland!”
Some were still chanting it an hour later.
Fifty-seven years later, it’s over. It’s done.
Contact Ed Graney at [email protected]. Follow @edgraney on X.
