Late Sunday afternoon, at the end of his long journey, on the last day of his 25 years as a manager, a quarter century of playing it straight and honoring the game and its traditions, Bruce Bochy broke the cardinal rule: There’s no crying in baseball.

The team and the fans honored Bochy on a beautiful fall afternoon marred only by a baseball game. All that was lacking during the emotional and entertaining postgame tribute to Bochy was for Brandon Belt to take the mike from his skipper and say, “If you need a beer, grab a beer.”

A lot of eyes welled up at the old ballyard, not just Bochy’s. But at least he had an excuse: allergies. Bochy is allergic to praise. Getting to put on a Giants uniform for 13 years was all the praise Bochy ever wanted, but on Sunday, it all caught up with him.

It was a sneak attack.

After a few nice speeches, a few busloads of former Giants surprised Bochy, storming the field in waves to honor and hug up their old skipper. The dramatic walk-on by all those players was highlighted by Barry Bonds ripping the Dodgers’ cap off the head of L.A. manager (and former Giants outfielder) Dave Roberts and flinging it to the grass. And by the appearance of the mythical Tim Lincecum.

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On a clear day, the love was as thick as San Francisco fog. It turned the ever-honest Bochy into a sneaky man. During his speech to the full house that sat through a terrible game in order to honor the skipper, Bochy did that thing where you pretend to stroke your chin but sneak your hand up for an eye-wipe.

“This was as tough a day as I’ve ever had,” Bochy said in a news conference after the ceremony, “because you just can’t believe that there’s that many people that, I guess, care, or made the effort to come out and be part of this. ... I had no idea that this sendoff would be like it was today. ... All these ex-players coming out, and each one I’m getting emotional about. So it was an emotional roller-coaster going on the whole day.”

For a lousy game (the Dodgers won 9-0) at the end of a disappointing season, it was an emotional and eventful day. Bochy, the old catcher, caught the ceremonial first pitch from his son Brett, the only pitch of the day the Dodgers didn’t square up.

In the fifth inning, Bochy honored Madison Bumgarner by sending him up to pinch-hit against cameo-pitching Clayton Kershaw, who retired MadBum on a hard liner, then extravagantly tipped his cap to the Giants’ skipper.

There were glitches. To honor the fans, the Giants gave away a new car to a random ticket-holder, and the TV camera zoomed in on the lucky winner proudly rocking her Dodgers jersey. Sadly, the man driving the new car around the field did not immediately veer off into McCovey Cove.

But who better to roll with the punches on Bruce Bochy Day than Bruce Bochy, a man who appreciates the emotionality and unpredictability of the game.

Bochy will be leaving his heart in the Giants’ dugout, and so Sunday, it was payback time. Years ago, Bochy dramatically said of a washed-up pitcher named Ryan Vogelsong, seemingly headed back to the minor leagues, “Vogy’s not going anywhere.” Vogy was back Sunday, reminding Bochy that all those guys on the field were his family.

And what a family, from Willie Mays to Bonds to Lincecum, who is seen less often than Sasquatch, and is way cooler. Timmy’s stroll-on, wearing shades and backward ballcap, had Bochy blinking hard.

“I didn’t know, they didn’t tell me all these players were coming in,” Bochy said. “I never got to look at the script here; they kept everything from me. ... It was beyond whatever I thought they could do.”

Bochy had to pause to collect himself when thanking his wife Kim, for her mighty support, just as he did earlier when it was announced that a center for prenatal care for homeless women will be named for Kim and Bruce, who quietly lend their support.

Bochy thanked a list of big people, like Brian Sabean and Larry Baer, and just when it looked like he wouldn’t have time to thank people like longtime clubhouse manager Michael Murphy, Bochy said, “And that goes for you, too, Murph.”

Bochy closed his speech by quoting from the Lou Gehrig’s farewell speech, the part about being the luckiest man on the face of the Earth. Unlike Gehrig, Bochy’s not dying. He can’t. There wouldn’t be anything nice left to say about him.

Finally, he pulled it together, long after the big ceremony, when facing the hard-bitten media. Until ballscribe Chris Haft asked Bochy what note Bochy might leave in his desk for his successor, if he left a note like U.S. presidents do.

“You know, I’d probably leave a note telling him he’s got the best job in baseball,” Bochy said. Then he paused, and he might have broken that old rule again.

Scott Ostler is a San Francisco Chronicle columnist. Email: sostler@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @scottostler