How This Feels
This was originally going to be a Felix PITCHf/x post, but I wasn't sure where that one was going to go. I don't know where this is going to go, either, but I have a beginning, which is enough. I'm just going to write and think at the same time and see what comes out.
Driving to the airport last Friday, my Padres fan friend and I joked about how it was the second week of May and already our seasons were over. Then later that night, Matthew and I checked the Mariners score, saw that they were losing, and laughed. Some people might think that's kind of weird, but what choice did we have? There was no other appropriate way to respond. We laughed because our favorite team is bad.
The Jeff of ten years ago would've taken offense to this. The Jeff of ten years ago would've stood by his team and scolded us for giving up so fast. The Jeff of ten years ago wouldn't dream of abandoning hope until the numbers told him to, because the Jeff of ten years ago saw the bright side of dark.
But the Jeff of ten years ago was never fully exposed to the team, not like I am now. The Jeff of ten years ago didn't spend hours every day watching the Mariners lose and then spend more hours every day writing about how they lost. The Jeff of ten years ago could afford to maintain a high degree of hope because, for the Jeff of ten years ago, hope wasn't a costly investment. And the Jeff of ten years ago could more readily accept bad losses and worse seasons because the Jeff of ten years ago didn't know what it feels like to pour yourself into something and then have to come to terms with one crushing disappointment after another. I guess that's one of those side benefits that comes with age.
I'm more rational about these things now. The Jeff of ten years ago would call it something else, but I'm calling it rational. I'm more rational because I have to be, because once you identify a team as bad, there's no sense in continuing to live and die by how it does. Every action a person takes is preceded by a cost/benefit analysis in his brain. You drive to work because the convenience of quick transport outweighs the cost to your wallet and to the environment. You eat a piece of cake because the deliciousness outweighs your health concerns. Or you don't eat a piece of cake because your health concerns outweigh the deliciousness. Everything we do is done because our brains tell us it's worth doing.
Investing yourself in a lousy team - that isn't worth doing. It feels kind of bad to say that, since sports are supposed to be this massive catch-all emotional outlet, but in the interest of remaining sane, once you know a team is bad, it doesn't make sense to get up for every game, because the magnitude of the lows will be larger than the magnitude of the highs. That's a losing proposition if I've ever seen one.
Over the last several days, I have compensated for the Mariners' slump by lowering my level of emotional investment. It has indeed reached the point at which I can laugh at losses that - were this a contending team - would drive me up the wall. And I have allowed myself to get to this point because it's the only way for me to ensure the team doesn't break me down. Many of you have probably observed yourselves doing the same thing. Others of you probably haven't, and that's okay. I don't expect everyone to be in the same boat. This is simply what I have determined to be the best course of action for me.
As strange as it may sound to some of you, though, this isn't depressing. This isn't a letdown. Well, it's a letdown in that we all thought the team would be better, but I don't find myself to be particularly upset with the current situation. While it may not be all that exciting, it's comfortable, and it's familiar, and it's steady. For those of us who're fans of baseball more than fans of winning, parts are even rather pleasant. The existence of fans of losing teams is not an empty one. We're granted the option of watching a new game almost every single day, a game that will invariably feature all-world talent and at least one or two things that amaze us. More often than not, that's enough, even in the absence of wild emotion and a winning context. The sport doesn't need a pennant chase to be enjoyable, and following a losing team allows you to focus on baseball's other appealing qualities for which we're all so thankful.
People have asked me if part of the reason I'm okay with the current development is because it proves I was right all along back in the offseason. To which I reply:
(A) I wasn't right
(B) No
I wasn't right because I thought the team would be better than this. I thought JJ would be healthy, I thought Bedard would be healthy, I thought Felix would be more consistent, and so on and so forth. I thought a lot of things that haven't come true. They may come true in the following months, but as of this writing, my overall expectations were wrong. What I was right about was that the team wasn't an ace away from being a title contender, and I suppose this is why people probably ask me that question, but my answer is "no" because I don't derive pleasure from being right. I expect to be right. Everybody expects to be right. And there's limited pleasure to be had from something you expect, pleasure that - if it ever existed in my brain - has been overruled by the disappointment of a losing season.
I don't have any faith in this team. I think this is the year that finally sealed the deal. I don't have any faith in this team, and I don't have any faith in the people running it. When I'm talking about events that could happen down the road, I don't say stupid things to be funny; I say stupid things because I expect stupid things to happen. That is the pattern that I have detected from the front office. This roster is loaded with all kinds of talent, but I have absolutely zero hope that the guys in charge will know what to do with it. Why should I? What reason do I have to believe that the suits will be capable of turning this Potemkin village of a baseball team into something more substantial? There isn't one. The organizational executives have never demonstrated a thorough understanding of how to build a successul ballclub.
But here's what might be the best part of lowering the level of emotion you invest: you're able to let these things go. If you can find happiness in watching a losing baseball team, it makes little difference how the team is constructed. In fact, I'll cast a broader net - it makes little difference how the team is constructed, how the team is run, or how the team performs. In times like these, I find myself to be far less critical and far more forgiving of errors and other assorted lapses in judgment. I didn't get mad at Jose Lopez for blowing that routine groundball the other day. I don't think I've called for McLaren to get fired since last September. And I'm not about to go crazy demanding for Bavasi's head on a stick, even after an offseason that at this point looks like a total catastrophe. I don't get mad about those kinds of things because I've found happiness in being able to come home from work every day and turn on a baseball game, and not even the dumbest of blunders is going to make the games go away. There will always be games to watch, no matter how bad the screw-ups. And so the screw-ups don't get under my skin the way they did a year ago when this team was actually playing for something.
There's always going to be that little part of me that continues to hold out hope until there's no hope left to hold. While the Jeff of ten years ago may have grown up, those childhood qualities never completely die off. Certainly, if the Mariners catch lightning in a bottle and manage to pull themselves into the race, that little part of my brain will admonish the rest for throwing in the towel, and I'll boost my emotional investment back to a level more befitting a fan of a contending team. Of this there is no doubt in my mind.
But assuming that doesn't happen (and probability says that it won't), I'll be okay. I'll be okay because I've managed to find happiness in the sport's most fundamental unit - the game - and as long as I'm able to drive home, make dinner, and watch the Mariners do whatever they end up doing, then baseball will continue to be all that I need it to be. I wasn't drawn to this sport by a winning team, and I sure as hell wasn't sucked in by one, so I don't see why I should make the existence of one be a condition of my continuing love. For 16 years, that hasn't been part of my policy. And for 16 years, my policy's worked.
7 recs |
50 comments
Comments
I'm pretty sure I'm in the same boat, if not a similar one.
I do hold out hope that this team can make a surge back into contention but losing ballgames isn’t going hurt as much since we’re at a point where there’s little chance of making the playoffs.
I can’t help but be curious, since this year, the FO expects this team to contend. How will they handle the rest of the year? We already seen Wilkerson punted and Vidro benched in favor of Clement and Wlad. Interesting times.
by ThundaPC on May 16, 2008 3:01 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Can an article be depressing and uplifting at the same time?
I think this one was.
by thewyrm on May 16, 2008 4:05 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
I feel exactly the same way, but it's not a new experience for me
Being a Husky football fan this past fall introduced me to the emotional relief of laughing at ineptitude.
It ’s remarkable, really, how similar the two situations are.
by discovolante on May 16, 2008 4:19 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Part of being a sports fan
In Washington state
I'm more like I am now than I've ever been.
by ralphie81 on May 16, 2008 9:56 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
Whenever people ask me why I still follow this team, I think I'm just gonna give them a link to this post.
Because you said it so much better than I ever could have.
Felix Hernandez may be The King, but Justin Upton is a GOD.
1998 Expansion Teams Reign Supreme!
by Goose on May 16, 2008 4:28 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
I'd say you were mostly "right"
If things had gone well the first few weeks, then the M’s would have almost been contending, right? They’ve had injuries to Bedard and Putz, for starters, and also an extremely low team BABIP and BARISP. So: a good strong dose of bad luck mixed with some bad FO and Mac decisions. Naturally you didn’t see the former coming, but you knew the latter would bite and bite hard at some point. Which really isn’t the point of the post, I know, which is a sober account of coming to terms with losing in general and losing by this team in particular. Me? I’m still a big baby about losing Adam Jones…
by flightrisk on May 16, 2008 5:52 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Sometimes I remind myself
This ownership group has never fired a general manager, or even put pressure on a GM to leave for failure. Not even Woody Woodward was bad enough to get forced out. If Woody Woodward’s performance was acceptable, why do we think Bavasi is vulnerable?
by Steve Nelson on May 16, 2008 6:15 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Very very well put
I’m sad to say that I’ve adopted this kind of attitude pretty much since the 2004 season. Yeah, I’ll get emotionally invested at the beginning of each season and at any sign of potential success (like most of last season), but I wore myself out too much by living and dying by each game during 2002, 2003, and most of 2004. When you you watch the team win 93 games but miss out on the postseason two years in a row because the division rivals caught fire at just the right time, and the front office responds by shuffling the deck chairs until the team hits an iceberg in 2004, it can be pretty draining.
Also – wasn’t the Jeff of ten years ago 12 years old or something? I’d hope that those ten years have brought on more changes than just your attitude toward your favorite baseball team.
by Nadingo on May 16, 2008 6:32 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Well done sir. I tried to explain how I felt about the season to my wife, but I should just make her read this.
I just feel like I’m back in the 80’s, listening to Dave N in the yard (I’m now the dad instead of the son), enjoying baseball, and enjoying the summer. Sure, the M’s are terrible, their front office is mostly incompetent, but there is always the joy of baseball and rooting for the young guys to get better. And really, listening to Niehaus on a nice summer afternoon or evening with some good beer and your family and/or friends is a fanstastic way to spend a few hours.
by Jed MC on May 16, 2008 6:59 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Amen to this. I think of Dave’s voice on the car radio waiting for a ferry.
As an M’s fan from the pre – Lefebvre Beliebvre (or whatever) years, I found myself taking a step back and enjoying having a major league baseball team in my town, with good seats always available for sneaking down to – spectacularly skilled pro athletes, in an insanely skilled league. The star of the show was baseball itself.
Growing in a AAA city, I felt like minor league fans (who are all also ML fans) had a deeper feel for the scope of pro baseball, the larger competition among thousands of players, and could appreciate far away great teams even more. Same with fans of bad ML teams.
Though it’s nothing like winning, when the bats and bullpen piece together to make wins in beautiful ways, like 95. Anyway.
by CactusBoy on May 16, 2008 8:20 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
I agree. Mostly.
I’ve been a fan for something like 25 years, and have become numb, then briefly exhilarated, then numb again over time. I have to say, however, that I still get emotionally invested in particular players (not in a corny way like my grandmother liked Dan Wilson [or, for real oldtimers, Scott Bradley]) like Felix whose talent gives me real pleasure to watch (and, conversely, whose bad performances give me apoplectic fits).
by chinn on May 16, 2008 7:07 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Amen Jeff
I’ve totally withdrawn my emotional attachment to the team this season. It sucks but I’m fine with it, sort of. I honestly find myself checking the Rays score more than the M’s score these days. Not because I’m suddenly an actual Rays fan or something, but they have hope. This season has no hope. Management put together a flawed team that could have hung around if things went right, and nothing has gone right. Like you said Jeff, it’s too familiar. I will be seeing this team live a couple times in June though in away ballparks, hopefully they don’t suck too much on those two ays
by phil333 on May 16, 2008 7:37 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Amen
Jeff, I think you hit the nail on the head. I feel exactly the same way.
I grew up down in the Bay Area and was an A’s fan for over 25 years. I saw the good times (World Series winners) and the bad (the “Triple A’s” of the late 80’s/early 90’s with 2,000-3,000 other people in the park) and I enjoyed the entire ride because I got to watch baseball. That’s what this is all about, right? Watching baseball.
For the past 10 years here in the Northwest, I’ve taken the same attitude. I’ll root for the M’s no matter what, but the bottom line is that we get to watch baseball. Sure I’d like to see the M’s win, but if they don’t I’m not swearing off baseball. That’s cutting off your nose to spite your face.
Keep up the good work.
by cjdahl on May 16, 2008 7:41 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
and the bad (the "Triple A’s" of the late 80’s/early 90’s
The world series teams?
by JI on May 16, 2008 8:56 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
As a fantastically poignent person once said,
“Nothing beats winning, but losing beats everything else.”
by Matthew on May 16, 2008 8:31 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
The overall tone of this thread
is making it hard for me to make fun of spelling mishaps.
by johnbai on May 16, 2008 11:54 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
Something I learned about myself this year:
I can root for bad teams, but I can’t root for stupid teams. Bad teams are just bad; they may try to do exactly the right thing, but they’re just not good enough to do it, and I can sympathize with that. I’m capable of rooting for a team that lacks talent, provided that the team is at least trying. But stupidity and close-mindedness just make me mad. Stupidity makes me want the chickens to come home to roost; when a stupid team loses, I actually get grim satisfaction out of it, since one of the things I truly hate is when someone does something stupid, succeeds through dumb luck, and then cites his success as proof that his dumbass idea was a good one.
So I’m confessing something that doesn’t make me proud: I don’t want the Mariners to succeed if that success appears to validate bad decisions. I want Bavasi’s and Lincoln’s bad decisions to haunt them. I want them to have regrets. And then, having lost, I want there to be changes and smart decisions to replace the bad ones. That’s what I’m waiting for: a smart Mariners organization. I may be waiting for a long, long time.
Pregnancy takes nine months, no matter how many women you put on the job.
by zagreusmd on May 16, 2008 8:51 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
If we can watch Unit, Junior, A-Rod and Doyle all shed M's unis...
I think another year of toiling in sucktopia is pretty easy to swallow. Losing Felix to Free Agency three years from now might be another story…
Coldly devouring reason as if it were a delectable snack
by Frosty Raptor on May 16, 2008 9:00 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
One
of these things is not like the other.
by AZSEAfan on May 16, 2008 9:06 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
It will be.
If this team loses Felix. I think that’ll kill it for me.
by Matthew on May 16, 2008 11:33 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
A-Rod>Unit>Junior>Felix>Doyle
Shouldn’t you have killed yourself a few times by now?
by Edgar for Pres on May 16, 2008 4:20 PM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
How old is Jeff?
Because the Jeff of ten years ago sounds 14.
I like using semi-colons; they make me feel smart.
by Llewdor on May 16, 2008 9:07 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
I was going to say 13, but that seemed implausible.
I like using semi-colons; they make me feel smart.
by Llewdor on May 16, 2008 11:17 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
Don't you know he's only 21-22?
OMG ONLY 21-22!
/LSB
by Jordan of Boise on May 16, 2008 9:54 AM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
Agreed
I said something like that in the “Why Mariners Fans Are Awesome” thread.
When you lose that emotional investment in the team’s future, losing can be really entertaining.
by OlSalty on May 16, 2008 9:31 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Pre-2004 I would have acted much like Jeff of ten years ago.
Probably the best thing I’ve ever done as a fan was force myself to watch a majority of the disaster that was ‘04. Taught me how to find enjoyment in losses and to appreciate hilarity on the field.
by BrianL on May 16, 2008 10:31 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
I fully agree with this
But at the same time, this morning when I was watching sports center, I heard the Ass Hats of Anaheim have dropped six of their last eight. This gave me hope. The M’s are going into inter-league after having some time to get the their shit together.
I need to be told I am an Idiot and all hope is lost and just enjoy Wlad going yard and Felix returning to his throne
by InSpokane on May 16, 2008 10:37 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Yeah, that sounds about right.
Yesterday's Pants
A blog-thingy about the Mariners and stuff.
by BrettJMiller on May 16, 2008 10:50 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
The Jeff of 10 years ago was 13, pimply and awkward.
The Jeff of 10 years ago didn’t know what “rational” meant.
The Jeff of 10 years ago liked the girl in his class that had matured faster, but then so did everyone else, including the cool kids, so it didn’t matter.
The Coach of 10 years ago was 6. Carlos Triunfel was 8. Felix hadn’t hit puberty.
Anyway, I’m all for your post though. Good stuff.
...and now I'm here
by Librocrat on May 16, 2008 11:19 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
As a guy whose interaction with the minor leagues
far outweighs my interaction with MLB (at least in terms of actually going to games, buying stuff, etc.), this all seems very familiar.
It was mentioned above that minor league fans interact with the majors differently, but this is particularly true for a fan of the M’s and an M’s affiliate.
In short, being a fan of a minor league team gives you two options to evaluate a season or even each game. If the season sucks, you’re taught that this is a concern, but it’s only one goal – the other being to develop MLB-ready talent. Same thing for a game – ok, we lost, but pitcher X’s change-up is coming along, or player Y is really hitting the ball hard.
It’s been really easy to apply these precepts to the Mariners this year – yeah, OK, team sucks. But this is a great opportunity for the team to develop new players who will help when the team’s ready to compete. Yeah, we got pounded, but Wlad hit a home run, Sean Green looked ok, and Vidro didn’t play. There are good things to see in basically every game. What’s better, this isn’t giving in to starry-eyed optimism or worshiping individual players over the team – it’s tied in with evaluating roster construction, player development, etc. It’s just choosing to look at the positive aspects of those issues, because let’s face it, looking at all facets each day is simply masochistic.
To me, this is somewhat different to reducing one’s emotional investment. OK, at its heart, it’s the same thing, but there’s a strategy involved as opposed to a more all-encompassing version of emotional withdrawal.
by marc w on May 16, 2008 11:21 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
When I get too down about these things
I think about Niehaus… and how many seasons of absolute futility he’s had to endure… while still bringing a smile and an anecdote to every half-inning. He deserves a spot in Cooperstown just for sticking with this miserable team fer so damn long.
by johnbai on May 16, 2008 11:57 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
What's funnier is the realization that
The minute that On the Air sign turns off, he’s as angry and bitter as all of us.
by OlSalty on May 16, 2008 12:42 PM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
I think Niehaus deserves to see the M's go to the WS
more than anybody in the world.
by Edgar for Pres on May 16, 2008 4:22 PM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
Eloquently put, sir.
here i am and here i go
by Burnside Brian on May 16, 2008 12:25 PM PDT reply actions 0 recs
I agree with the post
to a certain extent. If we choose to continue to watch M’s baseball, we should laugh at the ineptitude, we should enjoy the spectacular plays (by both teams) and massive homeruns (by the other team). We should enjoy that we have the ability to watch a baseball game played by a home team in a beautiful stadium with presumably beautiful weather.
That is, if you continue to choose to watch. I will always be a M’s fan for the rest of my life, but scaling back the emotional investment, for me at least, includes not watching all the games anymore, not keeping up with the box scores…scaling back my literal investment of time in this team.
I know Jeff and others who do such fantastic work in this blog can’t pull back like that given their occupations, so I don’t want this to be taken as if I’m advocating that we all abandon the ship here, but what I am saying is that, for me, personally…I simply can’t watch this franchise shoot itself in the foot anymore. We deserve a winner up here, we deserve competent management, and despite having all of the resources to make that happen, it never does.
If I’m going to truly enjoy baseball this year, I need “hope.” I can go to baseball games in Safeco Field and enjoy all the nuances of the game and be thankful that I can have such an experience, but I want to enjoy the Seattle Mariners, as a ballclub.
Does this make me a fairweather fan? Yeah probably…but is it really all that wrong to ask a team that you support with your time, money and emotions to give back what you’ve put into it?
Someone say something witty.
by Omerta on May 16, 2008 12:39 PM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Young players give me hope.
Not for winning, but for watching the kids become players that I will get to enjoy watching for years to come.
...and now I'm here
by Librocrat on May 16, 2008 1:12 PM PDT up reply actions 0 recs
Awesome write up Jeff, per usual.
You know what’s funny? I am probably more excited to go to the game tonight than I have been since Felix Day #1 back on April 1st.
The baseball Gods made sure I do not have to watch a Washburn start. It is going to be warm and sunny. It is Friday so I can go ahead and have a couple extra Mirror Ponds at the game. And to top it all off I am debuting my “Curacao CRUSHER!!” sign tonight. Please Wlad, rock Chris Young’s world.
by Sec 108 on May 16, 2008 12:51 PM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Once you start to accpt the losses, it gets easier every day
until the days when you’re just expecting a disaster at every turn, at which point it simply becomes hysterical. Up 5-0 in the first? GG we lose! Routine grounder? Bet you it gets booted!
In a lot of ways it’s just as fun to root for a bad team as a good team because when you root for a good team, a regular season game has two possible outcomes – content or anger. When you root for a terrible team, it also has two possible outcomes, but they’re joy and contentment. It makes my life easier when I don’t care if the M’s lose, but boy do I hope they win.
Go Mariners!
by seattlebruin on May 17, 2008 12:20 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs
Royals Reviewer here . . .
And let me say, I felt a pang of sympathy pains reading this article. What you describe is exactly what nearly all Royals fans have felt for the last 15 years. We always tried to cling to something, like the offense of the late 90s or the prospect of young pitchers, but were always disappointed. And every April, Joe Posnanski would write his “why it sucks to follow the Royals” column. And Rob and Rany would complain. And you just had to let go. You couldn’t hold on tight to a team that was as comically bad as the Royals circa 1996-2006. You could only laugh and make jokes about grit.
But I offer hope. Because the Royals are coming out of the dumps. Our meddling, incompetent owner learned to hire the right guy and back off. And with good governance, the team has improved. We have legitimate playoff hopes again in Kansas City, if not now than in the near future. We have a team that is still frustrating, but also fun to watch – especially the pitching. And if the Royals can turn around, with a tiny media market, with almost zero fan support in recent years, with 100 loss seasons still fresh in the memory, then why can’t the Mariners? Really, you guys haven’t had it as bad as the Pirates or us the last few years, you have more money and a division with fewer teams. So hold on to that still small part of you that says “Hope.” Because when the team rises again, it will be all the sweeter that you held on when others were mocking you and trying to beat you down. Good Luck.
by Eppenweb on May 17, 2008 11:03 AM PDT reply actions 0 recs

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