In case you live in a hole or were out of the country last night, this happened…

That, my friends, is the first perfect game in San Francisco Giants history. So much has been, and will continue to be, written about Matt Cain’s historic performance that I decided I wouldn’t bore you with the typical rundown of events.

Instead, I’d like to tell you the story of how I experienced this memorable night in Giants baseball, and the story begins with a phone call to my dad.

Like many boys and their dads, my dad and I share a strong bond over the game of baseball and the Giants in particular. As a former player and coach, he introduced me to the game before I could walk and taught me everything I know about how to play the game properly. Over the years we’ve spent countless times playing, watching and discussing the game, and last night was no different.

As you know, I live in the upper midwest and my dad still lives on the west coast, so these phone calls happen often. This one started out just like any other, with us discussing our various forms of bachelorhood that night as my wife was out with friends and my step-mother was doing the same.

Early in the game we spent plenty of time discussing the inclusion of one Brandon Belt in the lineup vs. a left-handed starter, a fact that I was obviously quite pleased with. In the bottom of the second Belt blasted a homerun over the center field fence to give the Giants a 4-0 lead and at that moment I knew what today’s blog post was going to be about.

As the game wore on our conversation covered the gamut of talking points including Belt’s approach at the plate, the folly of Stanford baseball coach Mark Marquess’ rigid philosophy and Tiger Woods’ chances at the upcoming U.S. Open. Through five innings I think we talked about what Cain was doing maybe once, spending more time actually talking about the virtues of giving a pitcher like him a big contract than the pitches he was throwing.

What’s great about talking with my dad, beyond just the fact that it’s just great to spend time talking to him, is that we don’t just talk about what’s going on in the game we’re watching or sports in general. Our conversations almost always become more about life within the context of sports and as the 6th inning approached we had covered quite a bit of ground. So much so that I can honestly say I was not fully aware of what was going on other than the fact that Cain was on cruise control as he continued to mow down the Astros.

In the bottom of the 6th my phone started to die, which will happen when you spend a couple hours talking on a battery that wasn’t even half-full to begin with. At this point I decided to jump off the call as my wife had returned home and I was losing battery quickly. It didn’t even dawn on me that history was being made and that maybe I should figure out a way to stay on the line for the full nine innings. Then, as fate would have it, I actually missed The Catch in the 7th as I decided to move from the living room to the basement to watch the rest of the game.

Moments later my dying phone buzzed with excitement as my dad tried to alert me to what had just happened, and it was in this moment it finally hit me that the possibility of a perfect game was suddenly very real. As I rushed downstairs to catch a replay I made the decision to text my dad to tell him I would call him if Cain reached the 9th with the perfect game or a no-hitter intact, but not before. Classic former ballplayer superstition in full bloom.

The next inning and a half was spent trying to nurse my phone back to life despite a faulty power cord that refused to work for more than a few minutes at a time. With the top of the 9th approaching I made the call, contorting my hands to hold the gimpy cord in the phone, and there we sat, father and son, not saying a word as we watched history unfold on our screens.

I can’t really explain why we weren’t talking to each other, but just having him there with me made what was already a fantastic moment that much sweeter. When it was all said and done and Cain had achieved perfection, I couldn’t help but reflect on all the moments my dad and I have shared over the years.

The Earthquake game in 1989, Bonds’ first game in 1993 and all those epic homeruns, The Brain Johnson game in 1997, the 2002 run to the World Series and of course that glorious night in November 2010. All of it made me realize just how lucky I am to have this game, and love this team. But most of all it made me realize just how lucky I am to be able to share these kind of moments with my best friend.