A perfect time to root for the A's

I had never cheered for the Oakland A's. Ever. And for good reason(s).

I hate their stadium. (Ever sat in those outfield bleachers? It's like a 5-mile hike to grab a refreshment.)

I hate their colors. (Green and yellow, pshaw. You look like John Deere tractors).

I hate their fans. (Hey, lets bang on drums and blow on horns the entire game. Yeah, that doesn't get annoying.)

I hate their awful TV announcers. (Makes me yearn for drums and horns.)

I hate their ... Well, I think you get the point. In fact, there's only one thing I like about the A's — their pristinely groomed field. (Dear Giants: Steal their grounds crew!).

Then Dallas Braden came along.

He's a Stockton boy, like myself. That alone made me pull for him. Then I found out about his true love for our hometown — the kind that led him to sponsor local little leaguers and help bring in food for the hungry on Thanksgiving.

So there I was on Sunday, in Stockton at my parents house with the A's game on. I was screaming, pacing back and forth from the living room to the kitchen and crossing my fingers. I was ... rooting for the A's?!

You bet. And it felt perfect.