Date: Fri 13-Oct-1995

Publication: Bee

Author: TOMW

Illustration: I

Quick Words:

Wyatt-Column-Baseball

Full Text:

Wyatt?on Sports -- Mariners vs Yankees

It was late on Sunday night of what had been a long and busy weekend. But I

couldn't go to bed yet.

My heart was pounding way too hard.

I'm not a fan of the New York Yankees or the Seattle Mariners, but as I lay

sprawled out on my couch, heart racing and blood pressure through the ceiling,

it was evident that I had come down with the worst case of baseball fever I've

had in years.

While I was secretly rooting for the locals, I couldn't help but be overcome

by the magic of the Mariners who's " Refuse to Lose " motto was a prophecy.

I hadn't experienced such magic since the '86 Mets who had the propensity to

rally from any deficit at any point in any ball game - giving fans the feeling

that they knew victory was imminent.

Despite my neutrality in this particular playoff series, I felt that feeling

for the Mariners. I knew they were going to win.

On Saturday night, in Game Four, Edgar Martinez stepped to the plate with the

bases loaded in the bottom of the eighth inning with the game tied. I

envisioned a grand slam the way I had once envisioned a Keith Hernandez double

in the gap, or a Reggie Jackson round tripper.

Sure enough, it came.

I would have given anything to be in the stands at Game Five, and to be a

Seattle Mariners' fan.

The theme from Rocky blared over the public address system as the team came to

bat in the bottom of the eighth, down by two, before the new Mr October, Ken

Griffey Junior, banged his fifth home run of the series. Then the home team

tied it.

I thought my nerves would bust right out of my chest when Randy Johnson came

in to pitch in the ninth inning, with two on and nobody out, and made

future-hall-of-famer Wade Boggs look like a Little Leaguer.

Black Jack McDowell then came on in the ninth for the Yankees and did what

Johnson had done in the top half, fanning the AL batting champion in a crucial

moment. I didn't care who won. I was just caught up in it, savoring the

tension and excitement like a kid at Christmas.

At times it seemed like the Kingdome crowd came complete with a " mute "

button, their thunderous roars instantly reduced to an eerie silence when the

Yanks scored in the top of the eleventh.

But I still knew it wasn't over.

In the bottom of the inning, Joey Cora reached on a bunt single which was like

a drop of water leaking through a crack in a dam. Griffey's ensuing single was

another drop, and it was only a matter of time before the whole thing came

down. And then, like we knew it would, it did.

I found myself sitting on the edge of the sofa, alone, exasperated, in the

middle of the night, smiling as the Mariners celebrated their victory.

I wish I could bottle goosebumps like those.

I had forgotten.