(Too Late to) Rally Fries

It's baseball season and my team is so far out of competition that it no longer matters. In those cases, you just have to sit back and enjoy the benefits of an evening at the park. In my case, I go for the garlic fries.

Boring baseball trivia, with footnotes

I'm sure that I'll tell you more about this later, but while I was in Seattle I saw some baseball. I can't remember how I came across this map today, but I'm glad I did, since it is a fairly unique look at how baseball is laid out in the US and has got me thinking about how unique my beloved Mariners are.
Now, I'm sure that the boundaries are up for discussion. But that's not what I'm thinking about. You hear a lot (especially in Seattle) about East Coast bias, and though some of it is just West Coast Whining, some of it is justified - because most of the teams are in the East. St. Louis was for a long time the westernmost team in Baseball, so let's just draw a line of longitude through it (if you'd like, you can imagine me standing in front of the map, with a t-shirt over my button down, Picture Pages style). This leaves us with 12 teams. If we really want to talk about the West and use the Rocky Mountains as our line of demarcation, we're down to 8 teams. If we take the wayback machine to 1997, Arizona drops out, and turning the dial to 1992 removes the Rockies. In short, I can easily remember a time when there were 6 teams west of the Rockies, 5 of which were in California. Of those 6 teams, only 3 of them originated there, the Giants and Dodgers having arrived from New York in 1958 and the A's having passed through KC on their way from Philadelphia, finally arriving in 1968. Of those three native teams, the Mariners are the youngest (remember, we're back in 1992), arriving in the league in 1977*. Of those 3 teams, 2 were originally owned by entertainers - the Angels by army air force pilot and singing cowboy Gene Autry and the Mariners by the alleged homosexual, communist, draft dodger Danny Kaye**. It's probably why the Angels continue to kick our butts to this day.

*For those nitpickers out there, 1969 marked the arrival of the short-lived Seattle Pilots, who, after one solitary season of play, were moved to Milwaukee by none other than comissioner-to-be Bud Selig despite plenty of legal attempts to keep them there. For awhile it was unclear where the team would be for the 1970 season, and their gear was being held in Provo, oddly enough. Sound familar to other recent Seattle sports news? Problems with the Pilots stadium were even part of the problem. Let's just hope that ClayClay doesn't someday become the commisioner of the NBA, or else we're all screwed. Oops, might be too late (put this photo with this caption).

**Shocking, I know. I never accused him of anything.

Oh boy...

Seriously?

I'd buy one of those.

For those of you who don't read Page 2...

Link

Love and Baseball

I love baseball. I love baseball so much that I'm even willing to talk about my love life on this blog, just so that you understand how much I love baseball. Considering that my only hard and fast rule for blogging is to avoid talking about relationships, this is a pretty big deal.

Enough preamble. I'm not one of those guys who wrote down a list of things that he is looking for in a girl, but there are a few things that would be nice: she's got to have a good sense of humor, she's got to be easygoing, and she's gotta love baseball.

That's right, I want to marry a baseball fan. I love being with the crowd and rooting for your team. I love that at the ballpark you can give your neighbor a high-five after a big play, even if you don't know them from Adam. And when you love something, you want to share it with the ones you love, right? Right. I can't wait to take my kids to their first game. Going to the game with my Dad was always one of my favorite things. Heck, those experiences made such an impression on me I still remember the first game I ever went to (Mariners vs. Orioles). I think I was 6. I don't remember much else from when I was 6.

Familial concerns aside (and more to the point) girls in baseball gear are hot. I don't know if it's some kind of tomboy thing or an attraction fueled by shared interest, but when a girl throws on her team's colors, I'm sold. And forget fashion. You can always tell when a girl is trying to look the part. I'm talking about wearing it because you love your team. Show me a girl that has bought at least one piece of baseball apparel that doesn't match her purse and I'm there.

One last thing: team choice. Of course, first and foremost, I'd love it if I met a Mariner's fan. I actually did ask a girl out once solely based on the fact that she was a Mariners fan, but that's a story for some other time. But, since M's fans are few and far between out here in the East, I'm open to any team affiliation - except of course for Yankees fans. I realize that I'm eliminating a big portion of the people I may potentially date, but I just can't do it. Any time I try rooting for them, a little bit of me dies inside. But I guess there's always exceptions...

I'm still living in the past - 1995 to be exact

If you are a M's fan, like I am, the thought of the '95 season still gives you chills. I know that a lot of things have been said about that season, but I don't really care. Living that season was truly magical for many reasons (including giving me a reason to talk to that girl I had a crush on in 9th grade). Seriously though, the memory of that season is so intensely engraved in my memory that names like Luis Sojo, Chris Bosio (raise your hand if you can remember his no-no) and Bobby Ayala bring back great memories. Well, the memory of Bobby Ayala brings back a lot of frustrated memories too, but I'm trying to forget those for the time being.

Well, anyway, here are a few of my favorite memories growing up as a M's fan, told in pictures that I stole from other people.

Wow! Griffey climbs the wall! And breaks his wrist!
Probably my favorite Mariner ever. And yes, that is a mustache. And yes, I do remember when he had it. And yes, I do remember when he wasn't the DH.


This isn't a particularly impressive moment in M's history (at least I don't think it is), but just a good memory. Edgar hitting a HR.

Probably the highlight of my M's memory. That's right, it's the hit that saved baseball in Seattle, the Double. I don't really know how to describe this the right way, but I'm going to try. The M's are tied 2-2 with the Yankees in a best of 5 ALDS series at home. It's the bottom of the 11th, Yankees are up 5-4. Joey Cora bunts and barely makes first base. Griffey singles, Cora makes it to third. Edgar Martinez takes the plate. Bam! Frozen rope to left field. Cora scores, the game is tied. But wait! Theres more! In a display of speed that I sometimes still don't believe, Griffey manages to slide into home and score.
What a great photo. Even with A-Rod in there. Here's a little challenge: can anyone name the guy on top of A-Rod? I know that's an inadequate description of the events, so here's the play-by-play. It still gives me tingles. Well, I know this has been a little bit boring for some, but thanks for humoring me. See you on Saturday.