The disparity of baseball hats in Portland kind of blew my mind when I first arrived in the Rose City earlier this year. You see, as a native of Northern California, I grew up to understand that wearing an A’s cap in San Francisco is a clear indication that you want to be called “moneyfail” (a scathing witticism created in response to Oakland’s diminished power and the best-selling novel Moneyball), and wearing a Giants cap in Oakland is, well, not the smartest thing in the world if you value your well-being.
Between The Horns: Give us baseball
The disparity of baseball hats in Portland kind of blew my mind when I first arrived in the Rose City earlier this year. You see, as a native of Northern California, I grew up to understand that wearing an A’s cap in San Francisco is a clear indication that you want to be called “moneyfail” (a scathing witticism created in response to Oakland’s diminished power and the best-selling novel Moneyball), and wearing a Giants cap in Oakland is, well, not the smartest thing in the world if you value your well-being.
After spending a few months here, I’ve noticed that all of the baseball sports apparel represents teams from California and Washington. It seems as though Portland is grasping for its own baseball identity, and, with that in mind, I find it odd that Portland lacks a baseball team, especially when the Portland Timbers have found such a devoted fan base here. Portland has proved that its inhabitants can be as boisterous as the Red Sox Nation (the Timbers Army will make their voices heard at any establishment with a TV), yet courteous enough to not revolt after every loss.
Similarly, Portland is no stranger to baseball teams occupying space within its borders. The recently relocated Portland Beavers (now the Tucson Padres) were a Triple-A club that operated out of PGE Park before the Timbers established their presence there and forced the team to be sold. The Beavers have had a long and diverse history of minor-league activity within the Pacific Coast League, with major-league affiliations ranging from the Indians, Pirates, Twins and, lastly, the Padres. Although the Beavers ended their last remaining years low in the league standings, their legacy continues to live on. In fact, I am hard pressed to recall a time when I stepped foot into a Portland native’s apartment and didn’t see a Beavers pennant flag or a refrigerator magnet with the 2010 season schedule on it. Hometown pride, it seems, overcomes low league rankings.
Although professional baseball may be absent in this town, the collegiate level of baseball and softball showcases an impressive tenacity in upholding the spirit of the game. Our own Portland State Vikings softball team recently claimed the Pacific Coast Softball Conference Championship series and won a trip to the NCAA tournament, marking this as a sequel to last season’s series win and NCAA berth. Despite losing to Oregon (and later BYU), PSU softball pitcher extraordinaire Anna Bertrand was picked as the Mountain Division Pitcher of the Year for the 2012 PCSC All-Mountain Division team, and head coach Tobin Echo-Hawk earned the Mountain Division Coach of the Year award.
The raw talent for smacking dingers and recording punch out after punch out thrives in Portland. But more importantly, the passion of the game itself thrives here. I’ve seen it at Erv Lind Stadium amongst the amateur sluggers of Underdog softball all over the Northeast region, throughout the houses and on the walls of Portlanders old and young, and within every fan rooting for the Oakland Athletics to the New York Yankees at their local Portland watering hole. So I say: Give Portland a baseball team we can call our own.
