First Game of the Year

Saturday marked a historic event, well maybe not historic, more like important (actually not really that important either). I attended my first Mariner game of the season. This actually might be a record for me as the latest I ever went to my first game. As witness to three of the past five opening days and owner of quite a few 16 game ticket packages, I can safely say this is one of the latest beginnings for me.

Side note: I estimated the other day that I have attended 314 Mariner games in my life. Awesome.

Needless to say I was was ready to go. My father and I parked the car and walked the short distance to the home plate entrance. We grabbed some hot dogs with cream cheese from the cart on the street (if you haven't tried it, you are a loser) and enjoyed them thoroughly while walking through the turnstiles. It took us a little while as the guy before us was told to finish his drink before entering. He quickly started chugging.

I always thought it was funny to see how people react to these situations. When they can't bring a drink in, people either:

a. chug it
b. take a sip and then throw the rest out
c. complain and then throw it away

Why not just step aside and finish it in peace? Why panic? Is that Miguel Batista first pitch really that exciting? (It really wasn't, nor was the 2nd through 57th either).

We take our seats in right field close to Bobby Abreu and the crazy Jose Guillen. I notice that Abreu looks awkward in a baseball uniform. It looks like he is an imposter. He stands with bent over with his left leg forward like he is stretching all the time. And who wears #53? I decide that Bobby Abreu is a loser.

Meanwhile Batista decides that with Jeff Weaver being put on the D.L. someone needs to suck and he is the man for the job. 2 and 1/3 innings later he accomplished the feat as the Yankees lead 7-0. Later Raul Ibanez cranks a two run triple off the centerfield wall to cut into the lead. Johnny Damon looked like a complete idiot on the play and then threw the ball like a girl to the second baseman. My dad tells me how much he likes Johnny Damon. Fair enough.

Later we learn that Jose Lopez's favorite websites are www.mariners.com and www.google.com. I am confused. My dad says it is because they can't really write his favorite websites on the big screen. They aren't appropriate. I believe that someone just wrote down two answers for him. Does anyone really believe those are his favorites? Like he goes to mariners.com to check out stuff that he already knows? Or does he just stare at his stats all day? And google? How can that be a favorite website?

I can just imagine him thinking, "I love google! You can look up anything!"

This reminds me. Has anyone seen the Lopez/Betancourt commercial? It is awesome. They do everything together in the ad including riding a tandem bike and playing Connect Four. I love it.

http://seattle.mariners.mlb.com/sea/fan_forum/commercials_2007.jsp

So the game goes on and the Mariners still aren't hitting Matt DeSalvo. I blame it on Willie Bloomquist. Why would he ever be playing? I started saying how much I hate him and my dad calls me out. He says, "I thought you could only hate one guy and it was Jeff Weaver no matter what". That made me even more mad. I hate Willie Bloomquist. But I can't apparently. So I have to strongly dislike Willie Bloomquist instead which makes me hate him even more. Damn my own rules! Damn them!

During the late innings, there is a giveaway from AM/PM. I get excited as I used to frequent the AM/PM on 85th and Aurora. The guy won in section 246. I am sad. Then they say what he won. 106 bags on cornnuts. Solid. The Moose starts pouring the cornnuts on him. I laugh.

Eighth inning and no scoring lately. Bloopers are on and I stand up to stretch. Guys fall over bases, fall into dugouts, get hit by pitches, crash into walls. The typical bloopers. Right when they end, the old lady next to us (and I mean old, she must have been 117) asks me to sit down so she can see. I say, "Sucker! The bloopers are over you old lady".

Actually I just sat down.

After two Bud Lights, some garlic fries, and a failed attempt at chocolate covered strawberrys (straight cash homie only!), the game ends and we head home. Nice to be back at Safeco, but not a great result. You have to love a place that caters to families and kids. And by love, I mean despise. No "Yankees Suck" t-shirts allowed, no one boos that much (unless it is A-Rod) and most people just root for the nice guys like Willie Fing Bloomquist. I stood up and booed Guillen when he booted a ball in the outfield and then doubled the horrible display by throwing a seven hopper to second base. And I think I was one of maybe four people booing.

So I spend most of the night each game sitting in silence stewing about how I hate the people around me. My father excluded. He paid for the garlic fries.