I debated whether or not to take care of this last night, but figured I wouldn’t be breaking any news. We lost, again. It was a little closer this time, and we hit more than the Blue Jays (10 hits to their 6), and there was a little more aggressive play, but still, for everything we did right, we did more stuff wrong.
Because the 1st Ave S-to-West Seattle Bridge on-ramp is going to be closed for the next year (thanks, city planning!) I drove myself down, rather than have Brandon and Jessica try and meander their way through the mess around Harbor Island to get me home after the game. These tickets for last night were, if anyone recalls, won at FanFest through the valiant effort of their son Orion during Last Fan Standing (hat tip to Mr Matt Pitman, once again). But I’m not interested in making my friends suffer after what I figured would be an awful game anyway by making them take me home the “complicated way”, so I went on my own. My plan, as the recent weather started to rev up, was to just go hang out at Pyramid for a bit, have a beer, and meet the Jerwas at will-call. I did all of that, but the beer part happened in driving wind and rain, while I huddled under Pyramid’s tents with two other poor saps who had also had the same idea. By the time I was done with my Apricot Ale, the weather had lifted a bit, and I was safe to go wait by the left field entrance.
The Jerwas arrived, we obtained our tickets (word to the wise – the main will call office on Edgar Martinez Dr is the way to go, not the one on Royal Brougham), and after a brief bag search, went inside. Food was quickly obtained, but I decided to let the Mariners decide whether or not I’d be having another beer. I figured that by the bottom of the 4th, I’d have some idea of how things were going to go. By the bottom of the 3rd, however, the decision had been made.
We tried to rally. We did. In the 7th, we small-balled our way into two runs, and in the 9th once there were men on, I really did think that maybe – just maybe – there would be some grand miracle, and Mike Sweeney would knock his way out of the park, or there would be some sort of dramatic single with some nice hard baserunning to at least tie it up…but it was not to be. This is getting harder every day.
I should probably go back over my archives so I can remember how I handled all my 2008 posts. I’m not sure how much more enthusiasm I can drum up this year if things continue on the way they’ve been. And with the organization’s reluctance to make any moves, it looks like this went from a contending season to…something else…really quickly. I hate to say it, but I’m starting to feel like a massive sucker for making the deal I made with Brandon and Jess to get our tickets. I’m starting to feel like I should have simply taken the hit and dealt with the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to afford tickets, rather than spend my spring and summer trying to work off debt. Sure, the whole yard service thing isn’t very difficult for me, and only happens every few weeks, but I could have used the $408 for the two seats I wanted for things like food, or going out on a Friday…or hey, even going to Sounders games. The Seattle Sounders FC, a team that refunds the money of its fans when it doesn’t play up to the standards that those fans are accustomed to. A team that asks you to give your full 90, and returns in kind. A team that seems to value its fans far more than the Mariners organization seems to, at this point in time.
I don’t give a full 90 – I usually give a full 180, because a 9-inning game is about 3 hours under normal circumstances. I give the Mariners my full 9, and they give me…what, exactly? I love our starting pitching. I love our defense most of the time (outfield, mainly). But my beloved bullpen and our non-existent offense…a shambles. As several people have pointed out, this wasn’t a team built on offense. But pitching and defense are obviously not enough to get the job done. And we need to start getting the job done.
I very highly doubt that anyone from the organization reads this, but if they do, I have only this message: I am the most positive supporter in the blogosphere, and you’re bumming me out. That’s saying a lot. Fix it.
These photos were the only good to come out of last night:
The only really adventurous part of our evening was having to change seats because the girls in back of us – attenders of some sort of Catholic high school – were having a conversation deemed somewhat inappropriate within earshot of someone of Orion’s age. Let’s just say that Brandon didn’t want to have to take time out of his day to explain oral sex to his son at a baseball game. The ushers were sympathetic and moved us over a section, to slightly more expensive seats where we spent the rest of the game. I was taken completely unaware by the entire situation, since I was getting a beer when the decision to move was made, but I was thankful for the vantage change, as it allowed me to get some of the pitching photos above.
Jason Vargas starts in a few hours; I will still be in class, and will likely miss all or at least a good chunk of the game today. I haven’t decided whether or not I’m bothered by that.