Where Were You?

Where were you?

In a season of 162 games, where the Mariners play almost every single day, it's only natural to "check out" sometimes. Unless you really prioritize it, watching all those games is a fool's errand. You'll burn out.

If the game is lopsided, really in either direction, it makes sense to move on and do something productive. Go to bed early! Read a book! Enjoy spending time with friends and family! (And no, the familiar and soothing voice of Aaron Goldsmith does not count.)

In my case, it wasn't actually choice that stopped me from listening to that game, but rather simple necessity.

Where were you?

The date was August 5, 2001. In the middle of a magical season, where the Mariners went on to win a record-tying 116 games, where we listened to or watched as many games as possible because we won just about all of 'em, the M's had a spectacular collapse that kept them from win #117.

I remember driving with my family to Leavenworth, Washington and losing radio signal somewhere on the way with the Mariners comfortably ahead by 12. We spent the rest of the drive relaxing and reveling in what was surely - surely! - a blowout victory.

And then the Seattle Post-Intelligencer that we found at Sandy's Waffle Haus told a different tale. My reaction was likely similar to Kaz Sasaki's face below.

That season was so magical, with so many amazing moments, and yet it's that story, and that game, that I remember most vividly. It's always stuck with me - whenever we have a big lead, I'm hesitant to call it a win, wary because of ghosts of yesteryear.

But I think yesterday's game, yesterday's win, that miraculous win, might have finally exorcised those demons.

So back to my first question. Where were you?

I was at a bar in Wallingford watching the NBA Finals with some friends. We were casually monitoring the Mariners on our phones, but once we saw it was 8-2, then 10-2, and then 12-2, we kind of tuned it out.

The basketball game ended with a late flourish from the champs, just as expected. We saw that the M's were only down by five now, so we got the TV screens switched over to the game, just in time for one of the best at-bats I've seen in quite some time.

That's seven foul balls! But it finished with a strikeout, and with two outs, even though the bases were loaded, it seemed like the Mariners were only minutes away from turning back into a pumpkin.

And then a two-RBI single.

And an RBI single.

And another RBI single.

And another RBI single.

And another RBI single.

And another RBI single.

And, finally, a two-RBI single.

Last time I saw that many singles, Tinder was involved https://t.co/nnNbeysRz4

— Ethan Novak (@EthanNovak) June 3, 2016

When all was said and done, the Mariners were up 16-12. Sixteen runs! Again!

And the entire time, my friends and I were enjoying this sense of pure jubilation. It seemed like a dream, an ethereal experience. Ten runs is an incredible comeback, the kind that energizes a clubhouse and gives a team needed confidence before it battles for the division lead this weekend.

Fifteen years ago, the Mariners collapsed and blew a game that had historical significance, but didn't end up affecting the standings. Yesterday, the Mariners refused to lose. They believed in Two Outs, So What? They had that moment that makes you believe. I'm choosing to believe and to put my faith in this team. After yesterday? You betcha.

Let's fast forward ten or fifteen or twenty years. I'm putting my kids to bed and reading them a bedtime story when they start fidgeting.

"Daddy, we don't like this story!" they cry. "Can't you tell us that one about the Mariners again?"

Sure, kids. The story of that first, great team? Close your eyes and listen. It began in early June...

Go M's.