On Thursday, Oakland Athletics fans lined up outside the Coliseum’s parking lot as early as 6 a.m. to be among the first ones inside for the final home game. The game, a 3-2 victory against the Texas Rangers, marked the end of an era in the Town, with the Athletics leaving to play temporarily in Sacramento and then planning to relocate to the Las Vegas Strip like the Raiders before them. From dawn to the early evening, fans played catch in the parking lot, shed tears, embraced, chanted, banged drums, and roared with every Athletics hit or clutch catch.
Roughly 47,000 fans were in attendance to bid farewell to their team. The mood was somber as well as celebratory. On one side of the parking lot, as fans descended the ramp from the BART bridge, two friends dressed in black, wearing black veils, were handing out fake black roses to passersby. It was a funeral, after all, the death of the A’s in Oakland.
Not far from the mourning fans, the unmistakable sound of Mexican banda resonated through the parking lot. The band was playing the classic La Niña Fresa, with the musicians surrounded by women dancing to the tune and starting the tailgate, drinking Hennessy from the bottle — no chaser needed. Others snapped photos and videos while singing and dancing along.
That joyous moment was reminiscent of the 2013 season when the Athletics reached the American League Division Series against the Tigers.
As people made their way inside the stadium, the chants of “Fuck John Fisher,” “sell the team,” and “Let’s Go Oakland” bounced off the Coliseum concrete.
Ahead of the first pitch, fans were greeted by former A’s player Barry Zito singing the National Anthem while a U.S. Air Force U-2 roared above the Coliseum.
A’s legends Dave Stewart and Ricky Henderson threw the ceremonial pitch. They stood on the grounds they once played, taking in what would be the last time they saw the Coliseum in a sea of green and gold.
“It’s a great feeling to be here because Oakland has the best fans around,” Henderson, who the Coliseum field is named after, told the Oaklandside.
Stewart agreed, adding, “In my opinion, Oakland is the greatest town in baseball. The fans are here to support. They’ve never failed. They always show up. It is an honor to be here today.”
While the fans were there to support their team one last time, many shared their sentiments with signs that could be seen throughout the stadium, from the bleachers to the 300 section. Signs along the outfield wall read, “It’s not us, it’s you;” “Goodbye MLB;” and “Doris get ur kid,” in reference to John Fisher’s mother.
MJ Rubio held a sign that read, on one side, “R.I.P. Oakland A’s” and, on the other, “John Fisher can burn in hell.”
“I live in Alameda and I rode my bike here. Where else can you ride your bike to the game?,” said Rubio, who has been coming to A’s games for three decades. “Fisher doesn’t deserve a dime, but it will be hard to stop rooting for them even when they leave.”
Matt Ortega sat in the bleachers, watching the game, carrying a sign that read, “We wanted to win. John Fisher did not.”
“There’s still a lot of anger. The move doesn’t make sense. John Fisher in Las Vegas doesn’t make sense,” Ortega said. “But more and more is seeing little kids like my sons who are under five that won’t have the same experience of riding BART to go to games. It’s knowing what’s being taken away. It’s been a lot more about what we’re losing rather than memories.”
Father and son Robert and Nick Freiri had the chance to make memories at the Coliseum. As they sat in section 315, they recalled two memorable moments.
Nick Freiri remembers coming to the 2006 ALDS game against the Twins when he was 8 years old. “Marco Scutaro hit a double clearing that gave him the win,” Nick said. This is the history of Oakland sports. You walk into the Coliseum; you see the home of champions. And knowing that the champions are gone hurts a lot.”
The senior Freiri recalled another game when Nick was two years old in 2000 and watched a game against the Yankees. “He’s sitting there quiet, listening to the crowd, and everybody’s going, ‘Yankees suck. Yankees suck,'” he said. “I take him to preschool the next day. He gets his whole class saying, ‘Yankees uck, Yankees uck.’ He had to come to the principal’s office. I had to tell him that chant was only for home or at the game.”
Not far from where the Freiri sat, Jennifer Lee held a sign that read “Loved the A’s since childhood. It’s the end of an era.”
“I have alternated between smiling and crying. It’s surreal to see all these fans out here. We were here for the biggest crowd when it was against the Giants. Today feels like what it used to be like when Mount Davis was open. We were here for that game when Mount Davis was open,” Lee said as her voice began to break and tears streamed down her cheeks, visible even behind her sunglasses. “It means a lot, but it’s sad because they’re leaving, and we wish it was because they were staying.”
At the end of the game, after fireball-throwing closer Mason Miller secured the final out, the crowd erupted. Other than one fan who ran on the field and a couple of yellow and green smoke canisters that were thrown on the field in the ninth inning, there were few disruptions, and the crowd lingered long after the last pitch to soak it all in.
John Marrone, 59, has been coming to A’s games since he was 5 years-old and is a 30-year season ticket holder who had seats behind home plate and waited with his son after the game to ask for autographs.
“It’s hard to pick out my favorite moment at the Coliseum, there are so many,” Marrone said. “Honestly, today might be one of them. The stadium was packed and it felt like the old energy again.”
Throughout the day, fans, team members, and staff got choked up as the last nine innings left in Oakland whittled down to one, and then it was all over — 57 years of Major League Baseball history, from Rollie Fingers to the Bash Brothers to Moneyball, headed east on I-80. Everywhere you looked around the Coliseum on Thursday people were sharing long embraces and wiping their eyes dry.
It was even difficult for this reporter (and diehard A’s fan) to chat with fans and take it all in. In the past few days, I’ve been going through old photos of games with my siblings and friends, reminiscing about all the memories I have, like being absolutely over the moon to be extras in the movie Moneyball or rocking my head back and forth during the “Balfour rage.” Or, seeing one of my sisters develop the biggest crush on Gio Gonzalez. Or, how much we fangirled over Doolittle, Cespedes, Gray, and Semien. Or when the team won the 2013 AL West title. Being excited to meet Coco Crisp and always doing the “Bernie Lean.” Or, my brother and I lining up early during bobblehead giveaways to make sure we could add to our collection. And how we practically lived at the Coliseum during the “All Access” era. And, in the post-pandemic era, attending games with my now-fiancé always wearing an A’s Hawaiian shirt that his dad doesn’t know isn’t in his closet anymore and sitting with his entire family, A’s fans spanning four generations.
Everyone has different memories of their time at the Coliseum, too many to name. But the one thing we will all carry with us is that, as the clearly emotional A’s manager Mark Kotsay said after the game, “There are no better fans than you guys. Thank you all for loving the game of baseball. Thank you for your lifelong support of the Oakland A’s.
