The Giants-A's matchups used to be one of the few things that united — and divided — the Bay Area in the best possible way. It was family trash talk at Thanksgiving. It was the coworker with the green and gold hat giving you grief on Monday morning. It was ours. A regional rivalry that didn't need ESPN hype because it was built on genuine, organic, cross-bay animosity and love.

Now? The A's are playing in a minor league stadium in Sacramento, pretending it's a pit stop on the way to Las Vegas. There's not the same appeal to Giants-A's anymore because the A's simply aren't the A's we knew. They're a franchise in witness protection — new city, diminished roster, an owner who treats loyalty like a line item to be cut.

And here's what stings from a fiscal perspective: Oakland bent over backwards for years trying to find a stadium deal that worked. The city offered public resources, entertained proposals, and negotiated in good faith. John Fisher responded by taking his ball and going to the desert, leaving Oakland taxpayers holding the bag on infrastructure investments that were made with a major league tenant in mind.

This is what happens when crony capitalism meets professional sports. Owners extract public value, demand subsidies, and leave when a shinier deal comes along. It's not free market competition — it's leveraging monopoly power against cities that can't say no.

The next time the Giants and A's meet on a diamond, it'll feel like running into an ex at the grocery store. Technically familiar, emotionally hollow.

The Bay Bridge Series deserved a better ending than this. So did Oakland.