San Francisco Giants
Born in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, Foster was drafted by the San Francisco Giants in the third round of the 1968 Major League Baseball Draft upon graduation from Leuzinger High School in Lawndale, California. After two seasons in their farm system, he debuted with the Giants at twenty years old in September 1969. He went two-for-five with one run batted in as a pinch hitter and late inning defensive replacement. That year on September 22, Willie Mays pinch hit for Foster and scored his career home run number 600.
Foster returned to the Giants in September of the following year, hitting his first career home run off the San Diego Padres' Pat Dobson. He finally made an opening day roster in 1971 as a fourth outfielder behind Mays, Bobby Bonds and Ken Henderson, but was traded to the Cincinnati Reds shortly after the season started for shortstop Frank Duffy and pitcher Vern Geishert.
Read more about this topic: George Foster (baseball)
Famous quotes containing the words san francisco, san, francisco and/or giants:
“Today, San Francisco has experienced a double tragedy of incredible proportions. As acting mayor, I order an immediate state of mourning in our city. The city and county of San Francisco must and will pull itself together at this time. We will carry on as best as we possibly can.... I think we all have to share the same sense of shame and the same sense of outrage.”
—Dianne Feinstein (b. 1933)
“Mining today is an affair of mathematics, of finance, of the latest in engineering skill. Cautious men behind polished desks in San Francisco figure out in advance the amount of metal to a cubic yard, the number of yards washed a day, the cost of each operation. They have no need of grubstakes.”
—Merle Colby, U.S. public relief program (1935-1943)
“Swan/Mary Rutledge: Oh no, no. I’m not running away. I came here to get something, and I’m going to get it.
Col. Cobb: Yes, but San Francisco is no place for a woman.
Swan: Why not? I’m not afraid. I like the fog. I like this new world. I like the noise of something happening.... I’m tired of dreaming, Colonel Cobb. I’m staying. I’m staying and holding out my hands for gold—bright, yellow gold.”
—Ben Hecht (1893–1964)
“But can see better there, and laughing there
Pity the giants wallowing on the plain.
...
Pygmies expand in cold impossible air,
Cry fie on the giantshine, poor glory which
Pounds breast-bone punily, screeches, and has
Reached no Alps: or, knows no Alps to reach.”
—Gwendolyn Brooks (b. 1917)