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The boys are hot
Enjoying the enjoyment with the Mariners and another late-summer surge.
Julio Rodríguez is 22 years old. There are people reading this who have yet to experience that fine age—and there are many who have, some a decade or two since. For the latter group, between 22 and who knows, think about what you were like at 22.
Think about your judgement, your maturity level, even your accomplishments and what you were working towards. It probably wasn’t a second consecutive All-Star appearance.
And I know, if it were 22-year-old me with the MLB accomplishments of Julio, the rate at which I’d get fined for criticizing umps would eclipse Matt Brash’s strikeout percentage.
As Dave Sims and Aaron Goldsmith tried to get a sense for what set Julio off to end the first inning, trying to discern an injury or otherwise from various replays, it was funny they first considered when they’d last seen the kid as angry as this…and then when they’d seen him angry at all.
Angie Mentink asked Julio postgame what riled him up, had him so frustrated, and his answer was revealing.
I don’t have the clip or the exact quote but it was basically, while it was the umpires and specifically the interference by the home plate ump on an initial steal attempt, it was the context that had him so upset.
He said these are big games. He said the players are bringing a level of intensity the umpires need to respect—and rise to meet.
These guys are locked in. They’re playing their best ball and they know it.
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It’s funny, because you want to say “Well we should’ve known they’d do this again!” but this isn’t some easily repeatable thing, to get going late again when things looked real bad. Most teams do not do this.
Look across the field at the Angels. Or across Twitter at their fans.
This is probably an excessively-mean way of saying “God, this is so much better.” But God, this is so much better.
What a fun time of year this is. What a fun type of run this is.
As we settle into the second half of a supremely pleasant Seattle summer, one that with some luck could stretch into October, the Mariners are playing a big game every day.
Around bike rides and hikes, maybe road trips or family get-togethers, even just chilling on a lazy, cloudy Saturday—you have a proactive sense for how you’re gonna follow, in some way, that day’s nine-inning theatre.
As our friend up there reminds us, it’s a familiar feeling.
Let’s enjoy it.
Sometimes when you write—a lot of the time when you blog—you’re writing a bit for yourself. You do it to look back and remember how you felt in certain moments, but you also do it to proactively express, define and confirm what you’re thinking right then.
So when I say to recognize that, regardless of the eventual outcome, this is often the best part of our ragtag bunch’s epic journey—that’s a bit for me, too.
This part is so good. These games are so fun.
Do you know how many moments these two-month thespian residencies can produce?
To get the juices flowing, here’s a couple from the very ballpark the Mariners tore off in a getaway car from last night.
If Sugar is more your thing than air arrows…
Where will this series be remembered in the lore of the 2023 Mariners? I guess we’ll see.
In last night’s game alone, we begin with Julio’s frustration and finish it with another Tom Murphy fist pump—and a strong slap on the shoulder to a fired up Andrés Muñoz.
The beginnings to some of these might be better, some of the endings might be worse.
As Scott Servais said about the liner to left that miraculously skipped over the wall to preserve the lead, “that’s baseball.”
This is baseball. This is what it’s all about.
Let’s have some fun.