Of the Seattle Mariners Part - 1
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same result (the internet says Albert Einstein said that, but the educated historian in me, knows he probably didn’t). Insanity...that’s a good way to put it, I guess. I am insane...I am a Seattle Mariners fan.
I have and always will be a Mariner’s fan through and through. Yes, those Mariners. The same Mariners that haven’t seen the postseason in 16 years. The same Mariners that had a $100+ million payroll and lost 100 games. The same Mariners that traded Adam Jones for Erik Bedard. The same Mariners that had the skinny, A-Rod. From the Kingdome to Safeco Field, I have listened or watched games with an optimism that some find amusing, but I continue to come back year after year. I come back with hopes of reliving æ95 or 2001, but I keep getting æ08 or æ10. The team is a rollercoaster...a rollercoaster with deep lows, but moderate highs.
I’m deeply rooted in the Seattle Mariners, so my insanity seems terminal. I hit the age where you start playing organized sports when I lived in a small town on the west side of Washington, called Rainier. It had nothing to do with the majestic peak, our state is known for, but is a small town of less than 1500 people. The town had the feel of Maycomb in To Kill a Mockingbird, Boo Radley house and all. Anyway, this is where I started to play organized and backyard sports with my friends. It just so happened that this point in my life occurred around 1995 and 1996. If you’re not a Seattle or Washington sports fan, let me put that in perspective. The Seattle Sonics were still a thing, and, in fact, in the midst of one of their most memorable runs outside the 1979 Championship run. They had The Glove and The Reign Man (Gary Payton and Shawn Kemp) and I was getting buckets in the Thurston County 2nd and 3rd grade league. I remember watching the Sonics win their games in Seattle and send the æ96 Finals back to Chicago with a little pressure on MJ and the Bulls. As the final buzzer sounded, I’d look down the hill from my grandparents house into Seattle from Kent, and see the colorful bursts of the fireworks being shot off the Space Needle. The city was celebrating with the team and during the late Spring of 1996, every kid in the state was a part of that team; even those 20-30 year old grunge kids, put down Kurt Cobain, Chris Cornell, and Eddie Vedder for a 7 game series (even though it only went 6).