Dugout of History 6: Candlestick Park

Remembering a ballpark to forget

Chrystal and Colleen bring you another episode of Dugout of History, with tales of the San Francisco ballpark that was trouble from the very beginning, from a Teamsters strike to heated seats that never were, and through to Dianne Feinstein’s failed dome plan and the World Series earthquake. It’s not just tales of woe and folly, there were plenty of highlights… just, not a whole lot for the Giants during their time there — San Francisco didn’t win a World Series until moving to McCovey Cove.

Some notes from Stathead diving on Candlestick…

The A’s won both of their games at Candlestick in the 1989 World Series after the earthquake, and went 4-3 there in interleague play from 1997-99. Oakland was one of only three visitors to the Stick to post a winning record, and the others were also in small sample sizes: the Diamondbacks (7-5) and Brewers (5-4). Fittingly, the regular visitor with the most success at Candlestick was the team that moved to California with the Giants: the Dodgers were 162-181 at Candlestick.

Five players hit at least 100 homers at the Stick: Willie McCovey (236), Willie Mays (203), Barry Bonds (140), Matt Williams (130), and Bobby Bonds (103). The most homers by anyone who didn’t play for the Giants? Dale Murphy and Willie Stargell hit 25 apiece.

It was McCovey and Mays who played the most games at Candlestick — 1,086 and 889 respectively. You might have a harder time remembering the players who follow those Hall of Famers on the list of Croix de Candlestick badges if they gave them to players: Robby Thompson (657) and Jim Davenport (613).

Bonds had a 1.053 OPS at Candlestick, which ranks sixth among players with at least 100 plate appearances — and Bonds had 2,198 plate appearances. The five players with a higher Candlestick OPS (all between 100-300 plate appearances) are: Jeff Bagwell (1.212), Gary Sheffield (1.070), Henry Rodriguez (1.064), Dick Allen (1.061), and Don Demeter (1.061).

Candlestick Park was also home to Crazy Crab, who might just be the mascot equivalent of Malört: objectively horrible and locally beloved not in spite of it, but because of it.