The Sikk family of Willow Glen won't soon forget that their houseguest is a ballplayer. Just ask Darin Sikk, who bumped into an excited Coutlangus outside the bathroom one night and heard all about the pitcher's hot streak—at 4:30 a.m.

"Jon got home and he started jabbering to Darin, nonstop," says Darin's wife, Suzanne Sikk. "All Darin wanted to do was go back to bed, standing there in his underwear, and Jon was pacing and so excited. Darin said, 'All I was doing was going to the bathroom. Doesn't he know it's 4:30 in the morning?' "

The Sikks are among two dozen "hostie" families who house Giants from all over the country, and even other countries. The host family program goes back to 1980, a product not only of a housing market that shuts out minor leaguers living on $1,250 a month, but also the team's belief that young players far from home are better off living with families.

"It's nice for the families to see the players make their way to the majors," said Linda Pereira, a Giants sales manager and host family program coordinator. "This is such an expensive area, and these guys just don't make the money to rent apartments, first and last month's rent and all that."

"I think it's become a Giants philosophy, too, that you want to create an actual home for these guys," she added. "You want them to have a home environment where they can be part of a family and have some home-cooked meals and have somebody at home to talk to, not just go to an apartment and sit with your buddy who may have gone 0-for-3 and you've gone 0-for-3. And it's amazing how they all do become families."

The Sikks, for instance, received phone calls from last year's guest player on Father's and Mother's days. Chelsea and D.J. Sikk, age 16 and 12 respectively, share a bedroom to make room for guests such as this year's southpaw Coutlangus.

"Jon does great with the kids," Suzanne said. "They call each other brother and sister, and they really do start acting that way."

"It's like they're your own kids," Darin said of the guest players. "When they're doing good, you're pumped, and you don't want them to do badly."

Players enjoy spending time with their host families during the season, at least between the road trips and late nights.

"It's awesome if you're lucky enough to get a host family that treats you like extended family," said Pat Dobson, 24, an outfielder and first baseman who lives with the Varteressian family of Saratoga.

Armen and Laura Varteressian have hosted more than 20 players since 1991, including major leaguers Joe Nathan and Noah Lowry.

"Either Saturday before the game, we go out for breakfast, or Sunday, we go out for dinner," Dobson said, who hails from Santa Barbara. "[Armen] has a saying—I'm not allowed to pay for one meal until I make the big leagues. Then I'll pick up all of them."

When the Varteressians began hosting players, their daughter was 11 and their son was 8.

"For them it was like having a big brother," Armen said. "With very few exceptions, all the young men have been wonderful housemates. We've gained more than we've given."

Hosting a player isn't all parties and hot tubs; there are tough times too. Few minor leaguers ever reach the "The Show," and teams demote or release Single-A players all the time. For host families, counseling the heartbroken goes with the territory.

Pauline and Chuck McDowell of Sunnyvale, hosts for 16 years, once lost a player the team demoted after only six weeks.

"It's very traumatic," Pauline said. "We were heartbroken. Then after he was down for about a month, they brought him back up. It's like having a member of the family having to go away for a while. It's very sad."

"When they move up to Double-A, we're all happy for them," Chuck said. "That isn't bad at all. When they get sent down or released, then that's something else."

Competition isn't the only challenge the players face. The players' schedules, long road trips and uncertain futures strain personal relationships too.

"In the years we've been doing this, two boys have broken engagements," Pauline said. "It's a really tough life for a woman, with all the traveling from spring training all the way through the season. We've sat up with boys who were ready to leave baseball in order to go back to the girl who left them over it."

Matching players with families is the job of Pereira, who has been so successful at convincing families to share their homes for free that this year she had a waiting list.

"There's so many player changes that everybody will still get somebody," she said.

Placing players with families that fit their needs, and vice versa, is no easy play.

"I have some married couples, so I have some families that will take married couples," Pereira said. "I have one lady who doesn't have anyone right now, but she always wants a Spanish-speaking player because her kids go to bilingual school. So they speak Spanish to the player, and he speaks English to them.

"I have a knack for it," she admitted. "So far, so good. It's worked out."

Except once, Pereira placed a "spoiled, selfish guy" with the team's matron saint, Nettie Rappe, who hosted 48 players before her death a few years ago. When Pereira heard the player had been rude, she kicked him out of the house, but that wasn't his only punishment. When he returned to San Jose as a visiting player the next year, the Giants made him the designated "beer batter."

At every home game, the team chooses an opposing player to be the beer batter. If that player strikes out, beer is half-price for 15 minutes. The rude ex-Giant was the beer batter for three straight days and struck out nine times, to the loud delight of the jeering crowd.

"He came to me and said, 'I don't ever want to be the beer batter again,' " Pereira said. "And I said, 'You should have been nicer to Nettie. You should have listened to me!' Nobody wants to be the beer batter in this entire league."

But that's a rare exception to the usually happy atmosphere that players and "hosties" enjoy.

"It is total joy," said Ned Lee, a host and also a Santa Clara County Superior Court judge. "You get to see these guys who are so committed to the game and so committed to their futures ... It's all on the line for each of them, every day. They are living the dream. How many of us really do that?"