Reflections on the Balboa Open

It’s hot as shit in San Francisco and anyone who has visited this great city knows that never happens. The rare warm breeze is whipping up all sorts of great memories of ole SLO town; most of which are centered on the glorious Balboa Open and all the great people, old bulls and young alike, who form this great event.

There’s something special about the high life of kicking on the jets, popping up to give the official Balboa Street sign a quick what’s-up…whether you’re five foot nothing or six too much, a quick ‘hello-daddy’ against that municipal beacon offers the sweet sensation their home.

We all know the Balboa Open is entering its second decade this year. That’s a feat and one unworthy of appeals. The bright and beautiful sunshine has blessed the Open for the past decade and will no doubt paint many new colors for years in the future. It’s no longer an event, it’s a tradition.

Thank you to the grand-daddies (mo, hawk, fish, & wheel), your vision and passion built a beautiful affair. Epic glory lives on uniting the old bulls, young bulls, observers, scorekeepers, pretty girls pouring a draft, young studs wishing they were still advancing through the brackets, trophy honey’s playing their part (i.e. acting interested), stony buddies loving the karma, and the dark horses making a name. The collection of colorful characters shines brightly creating a unique experience each year.

April 25th will mark another great day in Balboa Open history. I’m sure the sun will shine and it does not matter because rain won’t ruin our fun. The open braves all climates, magnetizes the best in all of us, and weaves together the synergy of a high, buzz, euphoria and ultimately for those lucky few…Epic Glory.

The dance awaits us…thank you all for your gracious attendance.

Cheers,

Fish