FanPost

The 2014 Mariners in the Hundred Acre Wood

Following are some excerpts from the unpublished work The 2014 Mariners in the Hundred Acre Wood. The reader is invited to make their own determination as to why this work is still unpublished.

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In Which We Are Introduced, and the Stories Begin

Here is Rock Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it.

"Um." Christopher Robin cleared his throat politely.

"Yes?"

"Is that really how I would carry Mr. Iwakuma?"

"I think it makes for a sweet story."

"I do appreciate your stories. But I think it more makes for a trip to the DL."

"True. He does have an injury history. Perhaps you'd prefer another story?"

"Yes please. If you don't mind. I've heard lots of sad stories. I'd like a happy story."

"Of course."

---

Winnie the Pooh, and some Outfielders

Winnie the Pooh went to Christopher Robin's house, humming a tune that was brand new. So brand new he had only thought of it this year.

How sweet to be Cano

Wearing Mariner Blue.

Every Rob Cano

Makes the offense go.

How sweet to be Cano

Wearing Mariner Blue.

It makes him very proud

To see a Safeco crowd.

"I think I'm ready to go look for some outfielders. Do you have your pop gun?" said Pooh.

"Well, yes. Our offense has been that for years," Christopher Robin replied. "What sort of outfielders are you looking for?"

"Oh, you know. Good Outfielders. There's lots of different ways to do it. We just need to find three."

"Well, which ones do you want to start with? Almonte? Romero? Saunders? Ackley? Morrison? Hart? Jones?", Christopher Robin asked as they made their way to the field.

"Yes," said Pooh. "That will do nicely."

"But that seems like an awful lot to have out there," Christopher Robin said. "And some of them are only Sort Of Outfielders. And why would you want to see so much of Abraham, or Stefen? Isn't it kind of early?"

"Oh goodness no. You have to try lots of them before you really know. After all, you never can tell with prospects."

A short while later, Pooh was looking over the roster, and the lineup card. Lloyd's spelling wasn't Wobbly, but it didn't take a Good Reader to see what was being put out there.

"Oh, bother," said Pooh. "These are The Wrong Sort Of Outfielders."

---

In Which Seager comes to the forest and has breakfast

Kyle Seager:

The wonderful thing about Seagers

Is Seagers are wonderful things!

Their bats are made out of RBIs

And look at the defense they bring!

They're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy

Fun fun fun fun fun!

But the most wonderful thing about Seagers is I'm the only one

Corey Seager: /looks over from his batting practice

Justin Seager: /holds up his copy of the Lumberkings season schedule

Kyle Seager: YES IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII'M THE ONLY ONE

---

In which Erasmo Is Entirely Surrounded by Water

IT rained and it rained and it rained. Never in all his career, and Erasmo had been here goodness knows how long --three years, was it, or four?--never had he seen so much rain. Days and days and days. "If only," he said, "I had been in Safeco Field, or Tropicana Field. Or one of those other Modern Stadiums. But here I am, stuck at O.Co all alone, with nothing to do except wonder when it will stop."

It was on this morning that Chris Young walked by, wading through the waters which only came up to his tummy, to say "How do you do?".

"I say, Chris, isn't this odd? It's like we're on an island."

"The atmospheric conditions have been very unfavourable lately," said Chris.

"The what?"

"It has been raining," explained Chris.

"Yes," said Erasmo, as Roenis floated by in an upside-down umbrella. "It has."

"The flood-level has reached an unprecedented height."

"The who?"

"They should have put the tarp out," explained Chris.

"Yes," said Erasmo, "they should have. Could you... could you very kindly help me out."

"Oh most certainly. I believe have the necessary capacity within my dorsal muscles to..."

"Pardon?"

"Hop on. I'll take you to Tacoma, where it's dry."

---

In Which Lloyd Leads an Expotition to the Playoffs

Lloyd was sitting outside his door, writing with his Special Pencil. As soon as he saw the Special Pencil, Zunino knew that an Adventure was going to happen.

"Good morning, Lloyd," he called out.

"Hallo, Zunino. We are all going on an Expedition," said Lloyd.

"Going on an Expotition?" said Zunino eagerly. "I don't think I've ever been on one of those. Where are going to on this Expotition?"

"Expedition. It's got a 'K' in it." Lloyd helpfully held up a 'K' card.

"Oh!" said Zunino. "I know." And he really did. Mike Zunino knew all about what the letter K meant.

"We're going to the playoffs."

"Oh!" said Zunino again. "What are the playoffs?"

"It's just a thing you go to", said Lloyd carelessly, not being quite sure himself.

"Oh! I see," said Zunino. "Are catchers any good at discovering them?"

"Of course they are. And starters and relievers and all of you. It's an Expedition. That's what an Expedition means. A long line of everybody. And we must all bring Provisions."

"Bring what?", said Jesus Montero from the next room.

"Things to eat", replied Lloyd.

"Oh!" said Montero happily. "I thought you said Provisions. I'll go and get them." And he stumped off.

Lloyd and All Our Hopes And Dreams shared a Confused Look, then Lloyd went out to gather some delivery, for the truck, to the airport. Zunino set out to see who he could find. The first one he found was Endy.

The GritLet was sitting on the ground at the door of his house, and wondering whether it would be this year, next year, some time or never. He had just discovered that it would be never, and was trying to remember what "it" was, and hoping it wasn't contention in the American League, when Zunino came up.

"Oh! Mr. Chavez," said Zunino excitedly, "we're going on an Expotition, all of us, with things to eat. To discover something."

"To discover what?" said Endy anxiously.

"Oh! just something."

"Nothing fierce?"

"Lloyd didn't say anything about fierce. He just said it had a 'K'."

"Oh, that can get a bbbbit too Loud for me." said Endy earnestly. "But if Lloyd is coming I don't mind anything."

In a little while they were all ready at the top of the Forest, and the Expotition started. First came Lloyd and Rodney, then Endy and Zunino; then Willie, and Ackley; and, at the end, in a long line, the rest of the roster, including all of Rodney's friends-and-relations.

"I didn't ask them," explained Rodney carelessly. "They just came. They always do. The bullpen can march at the end, after Ackley."

"What I say," said Ackley, "is that it's unsettling. I didn't want to come on this Expo--what Mike said. I only came to oblige. But here I am; and if I am the end of the Expo--what we're talking about--then let me be the end. But if, every time I want to sit down for a little rest, I have to brush away half a dozen of Rodney's smaller friends-and-relations first, then this isn't an Expo--whatever it is--at all, it's simply a Confused Noise. That's what I say."

"I see what Dustin means," said Willie. "If you ask me--"

"I'm not asking anybody," said Ackley. "I'm just telling everybody. We can look for the playoffs, or we can play 'Here we go gathering Nuts and May' with the end part of an ants' nest. It's all the same to me." There was a shout from the top of the line.

"Come on!" called Lloyd.

"Come on!" called Endy.

"We're starting," said Rodney. "I must go." And he hurried off to the front of the Expotition with Lloyd.

"All right," said Ackley. "We're going. Only Don't Blame Me."

---

In Which Christopher Robin Gives Felix a Party and We Say Goodbye

ONE day when the sun had come back over the Forest, bringing with it the scent of may, and in the warmth and quiet of the Forest the announcers were trying over their voices carefully and listening to see if they liked them, and bloggers were complaining gently to themselves in their lazy comfortable way that it was the other fellow's fault, but it didn't matter very much; on such a day as this Christopher Robin went to see Felix.

"Felix," he said, "I would like to give you a party."

"Oh!" said Felix. "Will there be those little cake things with pink sugar icing?"

Christopher Robin felt that it was rather beneath him to talk about little cake things with pink sugar icing, so he told Felix about the shirts and the turkey leg and the Important Letter K, and left to find all the animals.

"Party for Me?" thought Felix to himself. "How grand!" And he began to wonder if all the other animals would know that it was a special Felix Party, and if Christopher Robin had told them about The Perfect Game and the Sigh Young, and all the wonderful games he has pitched in.

And he began to think how awful it would be if everybody had forgotten about it, and nobody quite knew what the party was for; and the more he thought like this, the more the party got muddled in his mind, like a dream when nothing goes right.

And the dream began to sing itself over in his head until it became a sort of song. It was an

ANXIOUS FELIX SONG –

3 Cheers for Felix

(For Whiches?)

For Felix -

(Why what does it mean-ix?)

I thought you knew;

He made his team worth watching!

3 Cheers for King!

(is that why we sing?)

For King -

He couldn't win,

But he pitched again!

(He pitched for who?)

Oh, listen, do!

I am talking of Felix?

(For real-ix?)

Of Felix!

(I'm sorry I keep forgot-ing).

Well. Felix was a Pitcher of Enormous Brain -

(Just say it again!)

Of enormous brain -

(Of enormous what?)

Well, he pitched a lot,

So now let's give him three hearty cheers

(So now let's give him three hearty whitches?)

And hope he'll be with us for years and years,

And grow in health and wisdom and riches!

3 Cheers for Felix!

(For who?)

For Felix -

3 Cheers for King

(That's the thing?)

To hopefully get him a Ring -

3 Cheers for the wonderful Thirty-Four!

(He's ours, they can't have him, anymore!)

The preceding is a work of satire, something something Fair Use blah, with apologies to the Mariners and A.A. Milne, not necessarily in that order. All fictional characters are property of Stephen Slesinger, Inc. and Disney. All baseball players mentioned, are done so lovingly.

Silly Old Mariners.