McCovey Cove Dave likes attention. You might have noticed this from his shirt that says "McCovey Cove Dave," or his other shirt that just says "Dave," or perhaps from his hat that says "McCovey Cove Dave," or, when autumn descends on the Bay Area and the chill winds blow, his hoodie that says "McCovey Cove Dave." Also, his boat has "Dave" printed on it. You probably get the idea. In case you don't yet, Dave himself admits he does enjoy the attention, but "I’ve kind of earned it." How has he earned it? "The reason why I’m so loved is because I’m very accessible."
Indeed. McCovey Cove Dave is in the headlines because he retrieved Heliot Ramos's home run over the weekend, the first ball hit by a right-handed hitter to splash into the cove beyond the right-field wall in the 25-year history of the Giants' ballpark.
“It’s my most precious ball," Dave told a reporter. "I’ve worked over 20 years for it.”
Ramos has not asked for the ball back. The Giants have not asked for the ball back. But McCovey Cove Dave has gotten out in front of any theoretical requests, telling SFGate his answer is no. Not that his requests are excessive, Dave insists, but because "Heliot hasn’t earned it yet":
“Heliot, this is his beginning season, and I hope he has a fantastic career. He could get this ball, but he has to earn it. He has to play 10 years for the Giants and become deeply loved, and when I pass away, then yeah.”
Dave—full name Dave Edlund—has been a sort of Wet Zack Hample for 20 years now. He's scooped hundreds of home run balls from the water, and has become a common sight in his kayak and hi-vis Giants orange getup—though not, usually, when the Giants are facing a lefty, because Dave seems to like collecting baseballs more than he does baseball itself. Every team has its own Dave, in one form or another: a superfan whose name you know against your will. These guys are varying levels of bearable—around here, the late Freddy Sez was a nice old man; I hope Dancin' Larry falls in a manhole—but one thing they all have in common is a belief that fans came to see them. Where McCovey Cove Dave stands out is that he has actual beef with the team he purports to root for.
It's murky, and there is some he-said-they-said, but Dave's beef dates back 10 years, to when he retrieved Tyler Colvin's first splashdown. He says the team offered him a bat and a ball. He countered by asking for a specific jersey. The Giants declined, and the sides haven't spoken since.
"I feel like what I’ve done to help the Giants franchise," Dave told SFGate, "to make the cove more iconic, they could be a little more generous, at times, with me."
Presumptuousness aside, I don't think Dave was necessarily in the wrong in 2014, nor, even, in his desire to keep Ramos's ball today. If you catch a ball, it's yours, to do with what you wish. Most people don't value a ball as highly as this, and are happy to trade it for some gear if the hitter wants the ball for himself. And despite having hundreds of others, Dave does want them. They're his soggy balls.
Where Dave loses me is his belief that he deserves special treatment. In August, Atlanta outfielder Michael Harris II hit his first career grand slam into the cove and wanted to keep the ball. The Braves approached Dave and asked what he wanted in exchange. They say he asked them to ask the Giants to give him a job. He says he merely asked for the team employee parking discount.
And so McCovey Cove Dave paddles on, weighed down by baseballs and the mass of his own self-importance. (He brings his own baseballs to the park, signs them "McCovey Cove Dave," and tosses them to kids.) But I think Dave may have let the mask slip a little bit in his SFGate interview this week, when he said he's more likely to give a player back their home run ball if they interact with him. This seems like a cry for help:
"[Giants prospect] Bryce [Eldridge] follows me," Dave said. "Does Heliot even know I exist?”
