I mean, so, on one hand you kind of have to be pumped about what ended up being the skeleton, or first two acts of this here baseball game. There was the pitcher who the Seattle Mariners acquired for one completely extended Erasmo Ramirez throwing six innings of four-hit, one run ball while racking up six strikeouts. There was Ketel Marte's first MLB hit, which came with a runner on and while putting two on with an out to give the Mariners a real, damned REAL scoring option in this here baseball game. There was a mammoth 500-foot home run off the bat of Nelson Cruz. There was a tirade by the best manager in Major League Baseball by theatrical standards, and an intense nine inning.
And yet, as Carson Smith Fernando Rodney'd his way into the worst ninth inning since our namesake's Night Court Opus, you kind of had to look at the whole thing like just another notch on the wall of the prison cell that is following this team. And in a way, you kind of have to wonder what it was like for, say, some random abstract seventy-year old man who no doubt listened to this here game on the radio with the assistance of his son, wondering when by god this damned baseball team would do something worth listening to. And you know that happened tonight.
I mean, most of us here on this website are between the ages of 18- 60 or so, and we've seen our fair share of Rodney meltdowns and Bradley tantrums. The season was lost last Friday, after Jack sent away the only smooth rock in the bullpen for a bag of pixie dust and scotch tape, and yet...you know that someone was watching this here baseball game with the hope that something different would happen for once.
I mean, for crying out loud, the Mariners got on the board in the first iinning, following an RBI ground out off the bat of Robinson Cano that sent Kyle Seager to the plate following a Nelson Cruz double that got lodged in the Target Field fence. Then Montgomery struck a bunch of Twins out, and the game was quickly tied in the fourth after Trevor Plouffe whapped a triple to score Miguel Sano. And yet, it was all within reach, completely.
It was mainly in reach because Nelson Cruz was doing shit like this:
This here is a representation of Nelson Cruz' at bat in the sixth inning, which gave the Mariners their second run which should have won the game. What you will notice is that Nelson Cruz only whiffed on one pitch, and ultimately demanded Twins starter Kyle Gibson to throw him something that he could hit out of the park. And that happened. And he did. Nelson Cruz is a Seattle Mariner.
Right smack dab in the middle of this at-bat, Aaron Goldsmith casually joked to Mike Blowers that he had no idea what a pitcher could even throw to Cruz at this point, as he is now on pace to have the most home runs by a Seattle Mariner since a little somebody named Ken Graffey Jr. Or something, I'm pushing here, looking at the old books, guessing on these old names.
Anyway, Goldsmith was all man boy gee whiz, what can you even throw Nelly and then Gibson just lobbed a fuckin 3-2 slider in the middle of the zone, and Nelson Cruz put it out into the parking lot. That kind of thing is just crazy, and also the Mariners are 11 games under .500 and wow, just wow. Wow. I have no idea how any of this happened. And yet, here we are. Nelson Cruz is a Seattle Mariner, and the Mariners are fucking awful.
But I mean, it wasn't all a nightmare. Ketel Marte hit his first Major League "hit," and just this moment as I typed that sentence my computer's autocorrect tried to change his name to Kettle Marte, so I'm not sure how I'm going to handle these next couple of weeks. It was really something considering it could have been a double play and yet, he beat a bobble for a run-out grounder which resulted in this kind of thing. I know I know, the uniforms are reversed:
Now the wonderful thing about Marte getting his first hit like this is that he had at least three lights-out, knock-em-out stops covering second for the injured Robinson Cano, one of which almost killed Jesus Montero in this here LEAGUE APPROVED GIF that stops just before the runner just clobbers poor Jesus in the head with his knee:
Montero was fine, thank god, and you kind of have to wonder what happened to get us to the point that we are worried about a Ketel Marte throwing a baseball to Jesus Montero for the lucky out, and that it didn't happen in Tacoma.
I guess the other fucking crazy thing that happened was that Fernando Rodney struck out the side in the eighth, and then Carson Smith came into the ninth to complete the one-run save only to do....well...this:
Smith opened the ninth with a leadoff double, and then the runner advanced on a wild pitch, and then scored on another, and then whatever the Mariners are bad, and it turns out that Rodney should have actually closed the game in the first place. Poor Carson should never have been here in the first place but alas, he is, and was, and that's just kind of what we have to deal with now. Two months to go, ten gallons of molasses to swallow. It runs down the throat so smooth.
The M's get back to it tomorrow morning and while I'm sorry I didn't have more to say about all this, you kind of have to know that something will come to a head soon. And that is why I'm not worried about this team, one single bit. For even while they willingly lose like blumbering idiots, there is always something, something to keep your attention pointed towards the sidelines, be it a Ketel or a Carson or even just a Lloyd tantrum. And we've got so much time left to see just what they all have in store.
But I, for one, am worried about our proposed senior Mariners fan, actually caring, damned caring about these games. It's got to change one of these days, but at this point, you just gotta lose the right way. For Harold. For poor, poor Harold, waiting in the wings. We may keep watching, but they will keep...well...doing. It just may be up to us to tell them to knock it off in the first place.