When the lights go up in the city ...
In the bottom of the seventh inning of a tight game against the Dodgers, Giants fan Marc “G-Man” Roberts put down his glove and reached for his cell phone.
From his perch in the rightfield arcade at AT&T Park, he scanned the upper deck for a signal and then it came. A single flicker became two flickers, causing Roberts to whip out his phone, punch up the flashlight app and hold it high. Instantaneously, fans on all levels did the same and it looked as if fireflies had replaced the customary late-inning seagulls. The flashlight rally was on. “A trend,” said Roberts, before upgrading it to “a new tradition.”
No one knows how it started, but this much is known for sure — in a month in which not much else has worked for the Giants, the flashlight rally has gotten the job done.
“It just happened organically and caught on like wildfire,” public-address announcer Renel Brooks-Moon said. “Oh, boy, you couldn’t miss it. It was awesome.”
The necessary elements appear to be thus: the seventh inning, a man on base and long at-bats to allow the light show to build. In the bottom of the seventh Tuesday, there wasn’t time for it to become an actual, official, full-blown, can’t-fail flashlight rally. The Giants had a man on with two outs and Hunter Pence up when the cell phones started to shine. But the Dodgers’ Clayton Kershaw was lights-out quick, getting Pence to ground out on three pitches.
The lights first appeared on an Orange Friday, April 14, in the seventh inning with the Giants protecting a 4-2 lead over Colorado. The inning began with two strikeouts, before Brandon Belt came to the plate with a man on base. Mike Muldowney, a splashcam operator for NBC Sports Bay Area, zoomed across the stadium to flashing lights in the left-field upper deck, above the See’s Candy sign.
Belt, who had been in a 1for-19 slump, started fouling off pitches, and with each foul ball more cell-phone flashlights appeared.
“It just kind of started and kept growing,” Muldowney said. “Next thing you know, the stadium is lit up.”
Rusty Phillips, who was working the TV camera by the Giants’ dugout, saw bulbs flashing in a way that he had not seen since Barry Bonds was going after the home run record. Phillips set his camera on a wide angle and caught a sea of flash as Belt swung on the 13th pitch he saw, ripping a base hit that center fielder Charlie Blackmon booted, allowing a run to score, as if a Voodoo spell had been cast.
The flashlights stayed on as the Giants strung together five singles to score four runs, the only time they have been that efficient all season. There was something to this new flash mob.
“I’ve only seen that at a rock concert, never a baseball game,” said Jon Miller, who had been doing the telecast that Friday. He posted a photo to his Instagram account, with the hashtags #rallylights and #fridaynightlights, and 2,585 followers liked it.
Comments ranged from “beautiful” to “magical,” though one follower with an Orange County handle commented that the flash has been a tradition with the Angels for years. Another mentioned that they do it during night games at the University of Wisconsin.
Monday’s game against the Dodgers was the first home night game since that Orange Friday, and broadcaster Duane Kuiper was skeptical of the lights returning.
“I don’t think it’s going to happen again,” Kuiper said before the first pitch, “because I don’t think people knew why it happened the first time.”
There have been rumors that it was a social-media call to action but there is no evidence of that. One theory is that the house lights are lower this season, making the stands darker, fostering the necessary contrast to the bright white light.
“If it’s going to happen again, it’s going to happen in this four-game series” against the Dodgers, Brooks-Moon said.
When the Giants came to bat in the seventh inning, they were holding a one-run lead and were in need of insurance. That’s when G-Man Roberts, 53, who lives in Pinole and has gotten some TV time for his suit of orange from wig to toe — and his habit of standing in the arcade with his glove raised, ready to catch a home run — reached for his phone.
“It could happen anytime,” he said.
Then it did. “Don’t turn on those phones,” screamed one arcade standee, but it was too late.
“It’s a light rally,” said Joe Phillips, of Pittsburg. “It happened before and now it’s happening again.”
Jennifer Rosas, from Manteca, had not seen the lights before and had no hint they were coming. But she knew what to do when she saw them and instructed her daughter, Amanda Rosas, and their friend, Dominique Vargas.
“I turned to them and said, ‘Let’s do this,’ ” Rosas said. “I feel like I’m part of the fans, which is exciting to me.”
Then came the chant “Beat L.A.,” with the flashlights pulsing.
“It gets the batter pumped up and gets inside the pitcher’s head,” said Noah Roberts, son of G-Man.
Sure enough, Joe Panik singled. Drew Stubbs drew a walk, moving Panik to second. He then scored on a Pence single.
For two consecutive games, the rally lights had delivered runs in the bottom of the seventh inning. In this case, it made it 2-0, Giants, in a game they would win 2-1. The rally towel had been made obsolete by tech innovation. “It worked,” Rosas said. In the middle of the eighth inning, the fan anthem “Lights,” by Journey, came on but far fewer flashlights came out.
These lights are not for singalongs. Only rallies.