Keep On Keeping On

Welcome back Ichiro Suzuki.

Suzuki hit a grand slam in the seventh inning of Wednesday night's game against the Angels, his first game of the year after his first-ever stint on the disabled list with a bleeding ulcer.

It was his first grand slam in six years and the hit tied him with Isao Harimoto for the Japanese record with hit No. 3,085.

While his was the biggest moon ball and perhaps the most impressive shot of the night, it was Ken Griffey, Junior's home run blast in the fifth that had me going completely nuts.

Safeco Field saw Griffey smack career homer number 613 into the right field gap on a 2-1 pitch for his first home run back at the Safe since signing with the M's and his 400th as a Mariner (a team record).

Griffey rounded the bases and came out for a curtain call for the 18, 516 in attendance.

Heck, even tiny Endy Chavez went yard Wednesday! He stayed hot and questions of which player will bat where with Ichiro back in the lineup were answered, with Chavez hitting second behind the Japanese superstar and Franklin Gutierrez rounding out the lineup from the nine-hole.

I like to call the Venezuelan Gutierrez just 'G,' because really, he looks like one - as in a smooth cat like Warren G, not some gangster.

G wasn't much at the dish, with two walks, a run and an RBI, but the leaping catch he made crashing into the center field wall late in the game justified the drunk people sitting by us in the center field bleachers that were heckling him and calling him Griffey all night long.

He must have heard them, because the catch had Griffey written all over it.

Torii Hunter homered for the second straight night, moving him high up the list of Mariner killers, but perhaps a highlight of the night for me was while the Angels were on defense the half-inning before. Hunter was scoping out the crowd when the M's hit a major-league pop-up to center that he never saw. It turned into a double and a run. Awesome!

Jarrod Washburn picked up his 100th career victory despite giving up the Hunter blast. Aside from Miguel Batista, the staff looked very good. Batista seemed to struggle to throw strikes, something we don't need if we're going to stay competitive.

With the M's 7-2, I'm hoping more than 18,516 people will come out for these weekday games, although parading out of Safeco last night was just as much fun as it was for the opener.

First place feels super right now, but our boys will need all the support they can get over the course of this long season.

One thing is for sure: I will be there.

Feeling the Love

Art Thiel said it best in his column on seattlepi.com today.

It wasn't Thiel's masterful keystrokes about the weather, nor any of his first 852 wise words about Ken Griffey, Jr. and the Seattle Mariners.

It was the first half of his last sentence that captured perfectly what took place between Edgar Martinez Drive and Royal Brougham Way on 1st Avenue in Seattle last night, April 14th, 2009.

"Indeed, he (Griffey) and Seattle partied like it was 1999...," Thiel wrote.

Boy, did we ever!

Outside, it was mayhem hours before while the feeding frenzy was in full swing, with vendors cashing in on a Griffeymania rivaled only by Griffey's own popularity in the 1990s.

Sellers of the Grand Salami, a popular independent game day program that featured Griffey on a golden cover, hollered over the thousands of ants that swarmed all over 1st Avenue.

Many of the thousands had any of hundreds of varieties of Griffey's jersey on their backs. Nike cashed in with new t-shirts welcoming the Kid home - in about five different varieties. The posters that Nike added for a purchase of $25 or more (which would have been sweeter if t-shirts weren't $20 leaving you to have to buy more than you wanted to get them) were simply amazing for any fan of Junior's.

On the way into the park, employees handed out 2009 magnetic schedules with Ichiro Suzuki and Griffey on them. Smiles were everywhere.

There was Griffey on the Mariners Magazine.

I haven't experienced a more electric scene in my life as a sports fan. Griffey's return with the Reds in 2007 was the only thing for me that even came close.

When he was introduced, when he first came to the plate, when he got his hit that first at bat, when he broke up the double play leading to the M's first run, shoot, when he struck out, fans went nuts.

There were high fives everywhere. Chanting fans sounded like they were at a soccer game.

I thought the night would end when Griffey hit one out in the bottom of the 10th to win it. It didn't happen, and perhaps that was for the best.

My girlfriend's favorite new favorite Mariner Franklin Gutierrez hit a double and scored on Scot Shields' throwing error. Safeco erupted. More high fives. Griffey was smiling.

We filed out hollering up 1st Avenue. Nike got us on the way out with 'Hit it Here Junior' advertisement cards. We stopped at a bar. I've never seen anything like it. Not in 1999, not ever.

With the M's 6-2 and in first place, I say let's continue this feel-good tour. Let's win 100 games after losing that many. Let's dream big.

When I was a 15-year-old and Junior was doing his thing in the '90s, that's what he inspired me to do. His huge smile. His backward hat. His play-like-it's-your-last-game-attitude.

He's inspiring a new generation now, and he's taking the M's with him.

More than once last night I heard World Series whispers, and frankly, it felt great.

Take it From the Top

Hey, who are the new guys?

The Seattle Mariners new outfield of Endy Chavez, Franklin Gutierrez and old friend Ken Griffey, Junior made their presence felt in the M's season-opening 4-1 win at the Minnesota Twins.

Way to go new guys!

It couldn't have been much sweeter. Griffey homered on opening day for the record-tying eighth time and Gutierrez hit in Chavez with one of his own.

For one day at least, the M's are in first place.

Felix Hernandez looked stellar with the exception of the two times he nearly hamburgered his ankle.

Maybe he should pitch in tennis shoes? Seriously though, he looked good. If only the rest of the staff could be half as effective.

Miguel Batista threw strikes in his inning of relief and didn't give up anything more than a hot shot that should've been an error on Adrien Beltre. It was Beltre's only blemish on a solid day for one of the most underrated third-baggers in the game.

Jose Lopez continued his tear, knocking in three from the seventh hole. He's going to do a lot of damage from there.

The Angels just wrapped up a 3-0 win over the A's, so from my view point, the race is on from here on out.

Last year was a different team, with a different mindset. This year's team is better, with a more positive outlook and proven leaders.

Let's go, Mariners!

Arizona in the Spring

Living in Seattle, it doesn't get much better than escaping the perpetual gray at the end of March.

A week ago today, I quietly slipped through security in my nondescript jeans and a T-shirt and boarded a plane for Phoenix. Bye bye gray sky, hello sunshine!

Touching down in the desert in the evening, it was considerably warmer than my home base, and considerably less busy to boot. The rat race seems to be pretty crowded in Washington state's largest city.

I suppose we rats flock to cheese, not sunshine!

Anyhow, Stone Creek Golf Course in Paradise Valley was to be my playground for the next two days. Turns out, a lot like the school yard when I was younger, I enjoyed myself but was never in control of anything.

Rental clubs suck.

The staff at Stone Creek were marginally friendly at best, but their Nike rentals seemed pretty decent. By the fifth hole or so, I was hitting the irons OK. The SQ driver wasn't too hard to smash. Hitting it straight was another story of course.

Playing with two of my associates for skins, I figured to be in the hunt. In fact, I was hunted and killed. Across the two-day tourney, I won three skins, zero closest-to-the-pin's and finished something like 20 strokes down.

I blame it on the sun, the wind, the beer, the sand and my all-around poor golf game. Though I did average just under two putts a hole across the board.

If you haven't played in a dry spot like 'Zona, it's tough to stick those pitches! All-in-all, I recommend Stone Creek as a real nice course with a lot of challenging hills and bunkers. If it's windy, cancel your tee time.

The second leg of my tour de Phoenix was to be spring training baseball. This did not disappoint.

We secured tickets for the Mariners in Peoria long before fleeing our homes. We sat row one for both games, once behind home and once on the outfield end of the M's dugout.

The seats were amazing, the park reminded me of my old home park (used to be called Legion Park in Great Falls, Montana), the weather was brilliant, and there was no complaining about the Mariners.

Ken Griffey, Jr. looked great (batting). He hit the ball hard and drove in four runs on four hits. His smile was all over the park and his outfield play wasn't horrible.

He is slow for sure though.

Sunday, Adrian Beltre nearly caught Griffey from behind at home plate on someone's hit. When he was heading back to the outfield, I heard him say "Yeah, but I was starting to pull away."

The Kid still has it.

When I sort my thoughts I'll post some more specific thoughts, but for now, I'm just going to say that I'll be in Arizona every year, or at least every other.

Honorable Mention

I haven't given up hope.

I know.

Deep down in my soul, I can feel Ken Griffey, Junior's tormented mind as I write this.

He too, knows.

He's long envisioned his epic return to the Emerald City. The hero-like welcome. The old friends. Announcer Tom Hutler booming out his name for all to cheer. Naughty by Nature. The media swirl. The House that Griffey Built.

The sphere of his youth beckons. His heart is pulling him back to the Northwest.

Griffey's visions, however, also include wondering how his family members would be impacted if he moved to the other side of the country. He wonders what it would be like to fail in Seattle while his supporting cast is missing theirs.

With Griffey, it's always been family first. Always. He and father Ken, Sr. and brother Craig defined the baseball family.

Family first. Whether it was winter workouts or contract negotiations, family always came first for Junior.

His departure to Cincinnati?

For family.

All the homers on Mother's Day and Father's Day and family birthdays?

For family.

His heart tugs him to Atlanta.

The man is choosing his fate. Indeed, it is not a life-or-death choice, but his decision has the power to make his wife's day. It could also disappoint thousands of Mariners fans and even more baseball fans across the country.

Junior, your wife will forgive you, she has to.

I don't know if the fair-weather bunch that populates the peanut galleries and Internet forums of the Seattle sports scene would.

We've been abandoned by the Sonics. The Seahawks missed the playoffs. The Husky football squad? Skunked.

We need that storybook ending to be the beginning of a new era of Seattle sports. We need our boy-king to return a man wanting no more than to get a chance to play for his people.

We need that smile.

A friend of mine said to me one time while we were golfing, "Shoot arrows into the clouds and they'll go away."

It worked.

I'm doing everything I can with no clouds to actually see. I'm mentally pulling back the bow and launching off arrows to Griffey's thoughts of playing in Atlanta.

The Mariners aren't the Braves, they are much more. Baseball is about the ring. Of course it's about winning, but it's also about nostalgia.

In Seattle, it's about a teenager that came to the show, joined his father and went on to blast the Mariners out of the Kingdome and onto the baseball map. Way back when, The Kid was the best in the game. He had his feisty, standoffish side and his inviting smile.

In my eyes, the story will end. It will be OK no matter what Junior chooses, but for my own personal sake, my own personal greed, I hope he chooses Seattle.

Cheated on, on Valentine's Day

I won't lie to you, I follow my heart.

I've got a mind that gets me into all kinds of trouble sure, but the real trouble, that comes from the heart. The issues are too many to list. Let's just say that in all areas of my life, I am a romantic. Most of the time, at the cost of common sense.

On this holiday loathed by men everywhere and loved by all women, my heart is again aching. The pain is agonizing. It's out of my control.

It has nothing to do with relationships.

The Atlanta Braves are in the mix to sign Ken Griffey, Junior.

Say it ain't so, Kid!

As a lifelong, mostly obsessive fan of Junior's and an equally lifelong hater of the Braves, I would like nothing more than for Bobby Cox's squad to fall off the face of the earth while Griff signs on with the Mariners and magically puts up 35 and 100 en route to World Series MVP.

It'll be just like the Kingdome days. Hip Hop Hoo RAYYYYY! HOOOOOOOO! HAYYYYYY! HOOOO! We'll all party like it's 1995 and Naughty by Nature will release a new album.

In reality, my heart will dictate that no matter where Griffey goes, I will have to love it. I will root for the Braves if I have to. It hurts to even think about it.

Since I can remember I was forced by Ted Turner to watch the Braves and nothing but the Braves. I could strangle the announcers. Dale Murphy, Tom Glavine, Greg Maddux, Dave Justice, Salty, Andrew and Chipper Jones and the Tomahawk Chop all make me violently ill. I am not and never was Fonda Jane.

Even though Turner doesn't own the Braves and they aren't force fed to the nation any longer, it just hurts. But the Braves do have a shot at the postseason, so that would take the sting away somewhat. Man, love stinks. Trading pain for gain?

Just yesterday I was loving the press coverage Griffey was getting here under the needle (both front page banners!). The reunion was on. I was planning a spring training stop in Peoria and envisioning the naysayers choking on Griffey's Louisville Slugger after another sweet swing, and here I am today floored by the news he might sleep with Atlanta.

Cheater!

Jesus, it is like a relationship! How many of us have had that crush on someone that considers us firmly and forever in the friend zone? You know, the one that has no idea you even have feelings for them and they act independent of you and totally irk you just by being?

Please hear me Ken. Please. Please, please, please don't go to the Braves.

My heart would heal, but the scars would never leave.

Speaking of leaving, I left the blog world for a year. It's been stressful out here. There have been many events since I last wrote that just took over my life. No longer. I've got some catching up to do.

Since I seem to be the only one reading these posts, I'll be catching up with myself for the next few weeks with blogs concerning the year prior and the future of man. I hope I don't bore myself.

Go buy your mom some flowers, take a trip to the old folks home and dance with some ladies and have a great Valentine's Day people!