It's no secret that a large part of my heart is devoted to this, once again, hapless baseball team.
I'm one of those fans who fell in love with the Boys of '95, and hasn't looked back since. And I've been faithful to them ever since, laughing with them, crying with them, screaming at the umpires with Sweet Lou, enjoying the incredible ride that was 2001, writhing in misery over the slow decay that overcame them after Lou's departure. I believed beyond reason in Richie Sexson, wanted so badly for Gil Meche to come into his own, despised the flop that was Jeff Cirillo, and hoped highly in the rise of King Felix.
And this year - this year, I so firmly believed that it could be The Year, the year they'd take it all. They believed in themselves, they were strong in character and in confidence. They were a unit. They had the chemistry. And they stayed in the race the whole way.
Until now.
All of a sudden, as it has so very often in the past, the bottom has dropped out of this team's barrel of playoff dreams. They've lost 15 out of their last 18 games, fallen out of a wildcard lead to trailing it by 7 games in third place. They're reeling in the blows they've suffered. They are, for all intents and purposes, done for the year.
And it saddens me to no end. I feel a little bit like a lover who blindly returns to the partner who cheats time and again, knowing that I'll take her back in the end, that there will be no repercussions. There may be a screaming session or two ("How could you to this to me!?! Again!?!") But in the end, nothing will change. I'll go on believing that next year will be The Year, that it'll be 2001 all over again but with a World Series victory at the end, that all Seattle will stand up and embrace the team that I have loved so desperately, and that they'll forgo the general cynicism that most Mariners fans seem to suffer from.
So here's to next year: this time, I swear, it'll be The Year. Mark my words. I mean, it's not like I say that about every year.
Word up, Bro. Here's to all the believers. Here's to recapturing the magic that was 95, and the dominance that was 01. The poignant sorrow that befalls us each fall shall not endure forever. So as I join you in drowning my disappointment, I raise a glass to the ever comforting, auspicious, elusive "Next Year."
ReplyDelete(side note) Being somewhat more hardened (or is it naive?) I still haven't quite given up on a post season this year. As mentioned by you and evidenced in their last three wins, this team definitely has the chemistry and grit to pull off a 95esqe ride to the playoffs...their starting pitching, however, will surely leave them hanging if they make it. (I'm about to personally kick Jeff Weaver's ass.)
Here's to Next Year boys!
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