What made Bruce Bochy special? It goes from his voice all the way to his guts

Thanks, Boch.

You made our childhood dreams come true long after we lost the wide-eyed wonder of being a 7-year-old boy developing late-stage hypothermia at Candlestick Park.

You reminded us that baseball was always designed to be a gentlemen’s game, though even gentlemen will throw one high and inside if you don’t respect the game.

You brought us three World Series trophies, but you gave so much more than that.

You, Bruce Bochy, will go down as the greatest San Francisco Giant to never play a game for our favorite team.

Thank you for being country, no matter how long you lived in The City, that baritone voice talking all of our panic away no matter how we lost.

Thumbs up for being loyal to your players, never throwing anyone under the Muni in broad daylight, because we’ve got enough public ostracizing to fill our social media scroll from here to tomorrow.

Just, thanks.

Thank you for not winning a World Series with Barry Bonds your first year here in 2007, lest history crown Mr. YOU CAN’T PROVE HE TOOK STEROIDS BUT STILL as the one who delivered us fans from a life of suffering.

God bless you for never, ever starting Solomon Torres in a winner-take-all game.

Kudos for believing in a rookie catcher named Buster in 2010, and molding him into the aw-shucks person you are, and coaching him up to be every bit the all-star player you never could be.

Way to go for remembering that it’s OK to be just an OK player, and giving those guys a chance to be immortal … Cody Ross in 2010, Travis Ishikawa in 2014.

Nothing but props for remembering that even an old dog has a few tricks left, and giving them the stage to perform … Old Man Edgar Renteria in 2010, Mr. Barry Zito in 2012.

Gracias for letting players be who they are, even if they are in a different side of the spectrum than your laid-back ways … Aubrey Huff with his victory thong, Madison Bumgarner with his mad-dog stare.

Did we thank you yet for not putting Candie Maldonado in right field? And for not pulling Russ Ortiz out in Game 6 of a World Series?

Of course we didn’t. We appreciate that you were always ride or die with your best. You personified what it meant to dance with who you brung.

Hat tip for having the guts to call in Bumgarner from the bullpen on two day’s rest in the 2014 World Series. We wondered what you were thinking to call in your ace from the bullpen in the fifth inning of Game 7.

Then, we remembered what you were you thinking. You were thinking that you are Bruce Almighty, and you know exactly what you are doing.

Thank you for helping us forget every failure of our fandom, from Maldonado’s misplayed ball in St. Louis our freshman year in high school, to the Earthquake World Series of 1989, to the 2002 disaster in Anaheim, and all the playoff losses in between.

OK, so we didn’t forget, but still.

You made a grown man drop to his knees and cry on Monday, Nov. 1, 2010, when Brian Wilson got Nelson Cruz swinging for the final out in Game 5 of the World Series. He was in a Fairfield Inn outside Washington, D.C. You waved at him and his kids in the downtown parade a few days later, because they swear you were looking right at them.

So, thank you. For the titles, for the memories, and for always, always making us feel like you did this for us.