The five-buck T-shirts are too good to ignore

Can you afford to buy possible knock-off T-shirts outside a sporting event? You can't afford not to buy them!

At least that's been my stance for decades. It's not the stance of Mrs. Brad. She thinks $5 T-shirts are ridiculous, while I have a drawer full of T-shirts that say otherwise.

Or perhaps they just say that I am a sucker for deals.

If you're unfamiliar with how these things work, here's a primer: After major sporting events in the Bay Area (and elsewhere, but particularly here), you often find cheap, knock-off T-shirts, caps and beanies for sale outside the ballpark or arena. After the Giants play at Oracle Park, you can walk along the Embarcadero and find several areas where the shirts and hats are sold for $5. After Warriors and A's games, you can find them along the bridge that connects the stadium and arena with the BART station.

While there's no requisite price, it's almost always $5. The shirts always look pretty good, although there is always the risk that they'll fall apart (and sometimes, they're obviously shady, such as the T-shirt I once saw that had reference to "Clay Thompson" of the Warriors, who spells his first name with a K).

They're cheap, they're almost assuredly counterfeit and this is where Mrs. Brad and I part ways.

I am the bookkeeper and bill-payer in our home. I'm more conservative financially. I am financially risk-averse.

Mrs. Brad isn't. She does, however, dread coming out of games and walking through the market of knock-offs spread on the sidewalk or pavement.

I suspect it's not the money – after all, it's just $5. It's more about what she perceives as a silly addiction to buying cheap gear.

Cheap gear?

For me, there's nothing better than getting a great deal on a T-shirt. I will wear the shirt: I always wear the shirts. Whether it's a T-shirt celebrating a Warriors championship, a shirt with a Giants slogan on it or a Stephen Curry T-shirt (from which the lettering began to crumble on the first wash), I wear and keep the shirts. Until my drawer is too full.

It's not just shirts: My last two Giants caps, which I wear regularly, were bought on the Embacadero for $5.

We leave the games and begin walking to BART. While Mrs. Brad groans, I stop and look. My adult sons – both of whom have benefited from me making such purchases – will stop with me if they're with us.

It's strange, really. Nearly all of our big purchases are driven by Mrs. Brad, who successfully makes the case that a major investment has a major payoff.

But the biggest joy I get in buying things – bigger than a new car, bigger than a vacation, bigger even than our new home we purchased last year – comes from dropping $5 to get the latest T-shirt available on a dark city street following a Giants or Warriors game.

Even if it's for something that says "Clay Thompson."

Maybe especially if it's for something that says "Clay Thompson."

For five bucks! You can't afford not to do that!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.