Of the Seattle Mariners Part - 2 by Bayram Cigerli

Of the Seattle Mariners  Part - 2 by Bayram Cigerli 

It just so happened that during this time, the Mariners had also decided to be a fun team with winning ways.  The year 1995 was the year of the Mariners.  They had icons of the game, along with a future icon.  The team was led by the greatest player to ever grace the diamond: The Kid, Ken Griffey Jr.  They also had the most intimidating pitcher to ever take the hill: The Big Unit, Randy Johnson.  From the infectious smile of baseball’s brightest star, to the terror opposing hitters showed at the thought of Mr. Snappy, the 1995 Seattle Mariners made an improbable run into baseball’s postseason, and it almost never happened.  Early in the season, Griffey, the team’s heart and soul, crashed into the centerfield fence making an superhuman catch to steal extra bases, but shattering his wrist in the process.  The team hit the skids and floundered through the All-Star Break.  The M’s were out of it and had been written off, and then August rolled around.  As the season was winding down, the team went on a run that sparked the moniker, The Refuse to Lose Mariners.  Griffey returned and the Baseball Gods looked down favorably on this group of players that the rest of the league had forgotten about.  They just kept winning and forced a one game playoff with the Angels.  They won and went on to eventually play the Evil Empire from New York.  The series was in the Seattle and the Mariners were in a must win situation.  What happened next is simply known as ôThe Double.÷  ôThe Double÷ is a moment that still sends chills up my back when I see or hear Dave Niehaus belt out his excitement over the air waves.  ôThe Double÷ encompassed the entire 1995 season into a single play...into a single pitch.  With two men on, future Hall of Famer (yes, I said future Hall of Famer), Edgar Martinez stepped to the plate and with one swing of the bat saved baseball in Seattle.  Junior rounded third and the whole state waved him in; the throw was late and The Kid jumped into the arms of his teammates.  A dog pile ensued with sport’s most infectious smile beaming from underneath an 18 year old Alex Rodriguez and a pile of Mariner players; the Seattle Mariners had beat the Yankees. Yes those Yankees.  The same Yankees that have 27 World Series rings.  The same Yankees that had all the money in the world.  The same Yankees that fielded teams involving Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Lou Gehrig, Roger Maris, and keep going on, I’ll wait.  The rumors of the team moving had been, ôlined down the left field line,÷  and when Junior scored, support for a new stadium had a sharp uptick.  The Mariners had us excited about baseball, and the state was screaming, ôMy, Oh My!÷

Two years.  That all happened in two years of my life, at a time when I was fostering Big League and NBA dreams.  I still love basketball as a sport, but not like I love baseball.  The NBA took basketball from me, and I don’t know if I will ever get it back.  Sure I have Gonzaga and Husky basketball, but when you grow up with a Shawn Kemp poster hanging on your wall, sleeping in your Gary Payton jersey, and modeling your jump shot after Ray Allen and Rashard Lewis, the Sonics become a part of your life.  A part that has left a void inside me.  

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