My Oh My....tear

                                         
                                           


Seattle lost a great one this week.

The voice of the Mariner's is gone, and a little piece of my childhood seems gone too.  I was a huge Mariner's fan growing up, all starting in the 5th grade when I memorized the entire team of Mariner's....alphabetically.  It started with an inappropriate crush on Alex Rodriguez--don't judge, he hadn't left for Texas and an insane amount of money then, or douched out in New York yet.  Sometimes, having a crush on the wrong guy leads you to greater things and that was the Mariner's for me.  I love their games, even though I don't recall attending a single one where they've won.

 That doesn't matter.

 What matters is memories of going to the King Dome with my family and waiting for fireworks to go off.

 And despising the batgirls because they can't catch a ball but they get to work with the team. 

And sitting in center field with your best friends and yelling so loud that Mike Cameron turns around and gives you a wave. (Or being able to remember that his name was Mike Cameron all of these years).

And writing to the Mariners to please, please don't get rid of Joey Cora because he's the best second baseman ever and where would we be without him.

And bringing K to a game every chance I could get when he was in town. 

And double dating with Tommy and Nettie and finding out what happens when you accidentally (well, not me, it was K) spill beer on the girl in front of you.

And watching the players come onto the field.  Feeling that pride for your city.  Your city.  Drinking in that Americana that baseball on a spring night brings.  Watching the sunset over the skyscrapers and the Puget Sound.  The garlic fries and shishkaberries.  Laughing as the wave is attempted from across the field.  Looking around you and seeing nothing but turquoise and blue, with names like "Wilson" and "Johnson" and "Buhner". Names that the kids don't really know, but you do because you were there.  You got to see them play.  You remember the moments, and the commercials, and what it felt like to be in the city during those years.  You know why the street behind Safeco Field is named Edgar Martinez Drive.

And hearing, "Fly, fly, away" and "Grand Salami Time".

There are moments in life that people ask you about.  Where were you when this happened?  What was it like for you?  Around here, they ask you two things:  where you were when the earth shook on Feb 28th, 2001 ( on the third floor of CK high, thinking a chubby kid was just running down the hall) and where were you when Edgar Martinez ripped that double down the left field line in Game 5 of the AL division series?  I was at Skateland in Bremerton with my grandma and I was watching the game while my friends were skating around the ring.  And, that's how it should be.

I watch that clip, and I'll admit, tears come to my eyes.  That voice sends me back instantly.  To that childhood, that feeling of anything is possible.  That excitement and pride for those men and that city.  And to know that voice is gone, that hurts very badly. 

I am sure that when I am an old lady, things may become foggy and I may not make sense sometimes, but I'm pretty sure you'll find me reciting the 1995 Mariner's names alphabetically in my sleep.

Rich Amaral, Bobby Ayala, Chris Bosio, Darren Bragg, Jay Buhner, Rafael Carmona, Norm Charlton, Joey Cora............ 

Good-bye Dave Neihaus.  I always thought we had the best in our box.  Seattle won't be the same without you.