Tom Hanks once said “There’s no crying in baseball.” But despite the fact that he’s an Oakland homeboy, I gotta say he’s wrong on this one. I cried multiple times on what may have been my last trip to the Coliseum. I cried in the parking lot. I cried as we walked through the Catfish Hunter gate. I cried when I saw the mass of A’s humanity in the cramped, danky concourses. I cried when I saw the trough urinals for God’s sake.

On Tuesday June 13, we headed to the Coliseum for the ‘Reverse Boycott’ game. Fans organized this from the jump, and we bought right field bleacher tickets several months ago, back when all of the Oakland A’s moving-to-Vegas stuff was still up in the air. I guess it’s still not a done deal; who knows, someday I may read this and realize that none of it actually happened. But right now, there’s a mix of anger, disgust, frustration and fatigue among A’s fans, who are honestly the best fans around despite what out-of-towners often think. There is no place like this, and there are no fans like these. The passion may actually be born from the idiocy and cheapness of the owners, going back to Charlie Finley in the 70s and all the way up to the present-day slimeball debacle that is John Fisher.

At any rate, the fans organized and managed to get nearly 30,000 people to the Coliseum on a random Tuesday in June to watch a last-place team full of should-be minor leaguers play in a scrapheap of a stadium. I brought the whole family, as I often do, even when you read ridiculous tweets from people who have never been to California telling you that the stadium entrances will be full of crack users and you’ll have to dodge feces to enter (note: none of that is true, in case you were wondering. I am completely comfortable bringing my kids to the Coliseum).

We had a great time chanting along with the masses. My daughter painted a sign in the parking lot before the game (it says “Something Smells Fishy,” in honor of our horrifically awful owner named John Fisher). She was thrilled to hear people compliment her work and loved that they wanted to take her photo; she’s an A’s celebrity at this point. My son was excited that someone brought a box of donuts to hand out to strangers in the stands. And my wife loved having a chance to take a selfie with Oakland mayor Sheng Thao, who hung out with the crazies in the bleachers for a while.

All in all, a magical time at the old stadium. I pray for more nights like these in Oakland.