NEW YORK — OK, I’ll admit it – it had been awhile since I’d climbed on the Seattle Mariners’ bandwagon.
Twenty-four years, to be exact.
That explains why this longtime lukewarm M’s fan booked an October trip to New York earlier this year with his daughter to hit a few comedy clubs. Because really, the thought that the M’s would still be playing October baseball seemed like a bad joke.
So rather than trying to coax my way into T-Mobile Park last week to watch the American League Championship Series against Toronto, I was busy trying to convince apathetic Manhattan bartenders to switch the tube to Mariners games in between watching standup comedians. Mariner? I hardly know her.
But I’m not criticizing New Yorkers for not caring.
Because over the years, I’ve led the charge in not caring. In fact, I’ve been constantly harassed by diehards like my brother Jess for not being able to name more than a handful of M’s players at any one time. Some years, it was more like one or two.
Not exactly what you want out of a fan, especially a sports editor.
Now, though, I can proudly say I know my Mariners … Cal, Julio, Geno, et al. And over the past week, as the M’s battled for that elusive World Series appearance, my daughter and I went into full M’s mode to cheer them on – complete with rally shoes, high-fives and toasts with strangers.
While Seattle’s dreams were dashed by the Blue Jays 4-3 in Monday’s Game 7, our love for this team will surely endure.
And I make this pledge to the lifers: I’m on the M’s bandwagon for good this time. Admittedly, I was a little late to the game – and I probably owe a few people an apology.
Like my co-workers Taylor Newquist and Connor Vanderweyst, both of whom I’d mocked relentlessly this season as they sweated through game after game while working the late-night sports desk. In a group text during the middle innings of last Friday’s wild Game 5 win over the Blue Jays, Taylor wrote, “Things were simpler when we sucked …” My response – get used to it, kid.
Or my sister-in-law Anne, who celebrated Seattle’s 15-inning win over the Detroit Tigers on Oct. 10 the way a sugar-induced grade-schooler celebrates her first ear-piercing at the mall. In a video sent to me by my brother, I watched her scream and race laps around the couch while wearing an old Arthur Rhodes’ jersey. My initial thought: Her owning an Arthur Rhodes’ jersey (career ERA: 4.08) was like the fourth most-embarrassing part of it all.
Or my friend Jim Kershner, who invited me over to a dinner party a few years back to watch a Mariners’ season-opening game. Midway through the night, he disappeared only to return dressed in a full M’s uniform, or “costume” as I’ve constantly referred to it. He claims he got the costume – err, uniform – while working the team’s fantasy camp. I’ve had my doubts.
One thing’s for certain, though; I can’t get enough of these M’s, particularly the Big Dumper.
In this most unbelievable season, this most beloved Mariner – Cal Raleigh – powered the team to historic heights, beginning with his Home Run Derby victory in July, through 22 wins over the final 30 regular-season games and ending with a postseason run that came up a win short, but had us all dreaming.
Raleigh’s record 60 homers for a catcher during the regular season and his flawless leadership behind the plate were nothing short of heroic. You could feel the collective sighs of relief through the television screen from the 46,758 in attendance at T-Mobile Park last Friday when he launched a game-tying home run that I think might still be airborne – and set the table for Eugenio Suarez’s eventual grand slam that sealed that Game 5 win against the Blue Jays.
But the Dumper was only part of this incredible story. The M’s featured a fellow superstar, Julio Rodriguez, who customarily warmed up just in time this summer to help key this remarkable finish; two key trade pickups in Suarez and Josh Naylor who brought swagger and pop; and a young pitching staff that seemed to always find a way.
Add it all up and you had the kind of magic that captured the Northwest’s attention the way that Ken Griffey Jr., Randy Johnson, Edgar Martinez and Ichiro did a generation ago.
Those Mariner teams went to the playoffs four times in seven seasons (1995, 1997, 2000 and 2001) – while saving baseball in Seattle along the way.
This team has that same potential. Both Raleigh, just 28 years old, and Rodriguez, 24, are signed to long-term deals. Only one starting pitcher, Luis Castillo (32), is older than 27. And the farm system is loaded with talent.
Sure, Monday’s loss was heartbreaking.
But spring training will be here before you know it, and it won’t be long until we can fawn over these lovable M’s all over again.
And as far as making travel plans for 2026? I hear Seattle’s beautiful in late October.
Wait, October? I hardly know her.