In 1988 my life consisted of a few things: being a kid, watching Mariners games on tv, going to the Kingdome to watch Mariners games, playing baseball, and collecting baseball cards. Baseball was everything to me and naturally I wanted to be my favorite player for Halloween. No, not Mark Langston (my sister’s favorite player), Alvin Davis, Jay Buhner, or Harold Reynolds (a close second). My favorite player was Scott Bradley, the backup catcher who posted a -1.5 WAR that year. It was as simple as the fact that I was a little kid and we shared a name. I collected all of his cards and mailed a dozen of them to him to sign. 3 weeks later, he returned them with every card signed. He wore #9 and to this date, that’s my favorite number.
It’s taken almost 4 decades to realize that not only had I decided to root for the underdog, I had decided to root for the underdog on the Seattle Mariners who, in their 11th year of existence, outside of a couple of good players, had achieved almost nothing. It was the late 80s and I bet a majority of Americans couldn’t locate Seattle on a map. I didn’t care; they were my team.
I wore my Scott Bradley homemade jersey with pride for multiple halloweens in a row. I also wore it to every home game in the Kingdome for years—a bit longer than my Mom expected. 35 years later, it’s been passed down to my son to now to my 5-year-old daughter. Watching her run around T-Mobile Park in it is incredible.
I’ve actively wondered for a while if I would ever see the Seattle Mariners get to a World Series. As I write this, being one win away, I still don’t know. I’ve been let down year after year after year. After year after year. I’ve had to generate protective measures for my mental health. At the top of the list is, despite watching most games, I develop absolutely no feelings about the team being good until late August. Baseball has impacted my mental health too many summers; everything up to that point is purely analytical.
In 1997, on my way to Game 4 of the ALDS vs Baltimore, there was an unfortunate accident. As we were riding the bus through the tunnel in Downtown Seattle, a crush of people pushed an older man under my bus. It was tragic. We walked the mile plus from Westlake to the stadium. Sure, I was going to a playoff game but I was so extremely sad. We lost, and I continued to be bummed, but this day helped me realize that sports only mean so much.
I didn’t know it at the time, but that would also be the last time that I would see my favorite players, Ken Griffey Jr and Randy Johnson, in the playoffs. Two future hall of famers, both of whom left the team rather abruptly in the following years.
A few years later, we somehow got even better. In 2001, we become the winningest ever regular season team, only to lose to the Yankees in the postseason again. We would be competitive for a few more years, but wouldn’t make the postseason for decades.
At one point, I thought that there was no way it could ever be worse than my childhood years in the 80s, but I think that 2005 – 2019 were worse. Yes, we had some good moments. We almost made the playoffs a few times. We had Felix, Cano, Seager, and Cruz. However, we rarely felt competitive. Just barely enough to keep us interested; not enough to matter. By late summer, you could count on a free October.
We’ve been to the ALCS 4 times in 48 years but previously never won more than 2 games. I am middled aged and have been obsessed with this team since the 80s. I have no idea what it feels like to be one win away from the World Series—until tonight.
I genuinely don’t know how to feel right now. I want to talk about the how when Humpy prevailed in the Salmon Run for the first time during game 5 of the ALDS last week is symbolic of the Mariners history. The only team that has never had more than 2 wins in the Championship Series, let alone the World Series, can win. I want to talk about former players like Felix who deserved this joy.
I think a lot about the people I love that I get to share this moment with.
I’m thinking a lot about Dave Niehaus, the Hall of Fame broadcaster who passed away 15 years ago. I know how much he would have loved Cal and Julio. His reverence for calling Logan, “Walter” on game day would be incredible. I miss hearing him describe the weather.
My kids are 10 and 5 and all they’ve known are the Mariners as a competitive team. I’m so jealous.
Go M’s