Apparently everybody meets beneath the Say Hey Kid...
My favorite inscription, attributed to a SF sportswriter: "The only person who could have caught that ball, hit it." Not exactly a koan...but certainly worth meditating on for a moment or two.
All of these post-Camden Yards parks are the same structurally, give or take some deliberate idiosyncrasy (Tal's Hill, say). So it's mostly about setting. In which case AT&T Park may take the Blue Ribbon.
"Pitch to Barry!" indeed. It's enough to make you want to change your Hall of Fame ballot.
Other than that, you've got a bunch incidentals. The pre-game stadium audio included several cuts from Abbey Road. I first layed eyes on the field listening to Polythene Pam. Early clouds had parted, but it wasn't Here Comes the Sun, it was Sun King. Nice. The Stadium announcer is a woman. The bullpens are in foul territory down the lines; you can easily see who's warming up. While the between inning entertainment is silly, with the 2-minute clock now in effect, at least it's brief. And I don't remember being asked to GET LOUD or otherwise clap rhythmically. How civilized! In a California kind of way...
Pass me the sushi.
I got up at The Stretch and circled the park on the Promenade Level, part of a surging sun-dazed conga line of fans increasingly indifferent to what I was sure would be an LA victory.
And I stumbled on this (don't judge):
By the time I got to right field it was the middle of the 8th. To my left, McCovey Cove had few kayaking ballhawks (wind conditions were not favorable for most of the game); up my nose, the heavy smell of expensive pot; in my ear, Steve Perry yammering something about South Detroit...
The Giants scored a run in the bottom of the 9th and one in the 10th to win 3 - 2 and sweep the Dodgers. The Kid seemed to suggest Onward and Upward as I headed back to my station.