Baseball in Seattle? Yup. Terrace Club Blues? Hell yeah.
Expectations are different this year— and they should be.
This year isn’t about simply experiencing a glimpse of excellence for a few moments. We’re getting older, more mature. The window is open, and there’s a fresh buzz in the spring air.
The Time to be Great is Now.
When I uploaded my first post here, almost a year ago now, I expected this to be a cool way to distill and share my thoughts on a topic that I already spend so much time thinking about. Obviously, Mariners baseball is important to me. It’s important to my family, important to my friends, and it has manifested itself as a sort of tangible gravity where life and love spin around with great joy.
What I didn’t expect was the overwhelming support and encouragement I felt from everyone who took the time to engage, whether it was old acquaintances, former coaches, complete strangers, or the Seattle sports community in general. My heart was (and still is) filled to the brim with appreciation. For a few moments, I felt like I was experiencing a glimpse of personal excellence.
The funny thing about excellence, though, is that it’s easy to stand by and be satisfied that, right now, it’s happening. That it’s okay to be still, to slow down, and simply enjoy the moment— enjoy the excellence before it’s gone.
Maybe there is some truth to that— or maybe that’s bullshit.
Fast forward to the back-half of last season when our very own *perennial all-star* Julio Rodríguez started to heat up a bit earlier than normal, or when it became undeniably clear that Caleb John Raleigh was dumping something historically hot onto the baseball world. Right as that momentum started to build, Terrace Club Blues came to a halt.
I could sit here and tell you the reason for that was because, instead of trying to meticulously shape storylines or stress about non-existent deadlines, I made a deliberate choice to simply witness the baseball excellence that was about to unfold.
If I did end up telling you that— it would be a half-truth. And to be honest, I actually don’t hate that angle. Although, it would really fuck up the other narrative I decided to go with instead.
The more accurate part of that half-truth is that I started a new job. Life is stressful. And I got complacent with my writing practice. Complacent because I shot for personal excellence and I felt personal excellence— if only for a mere moment.
And that’s the problem— “excellence” implies quality contained at a specific point in time and space. It’s susceptible to evanescence.
Hell, for long stretches of last year, Dom Canzone was excellent. In October, Bryce Miller was excellent. That meal you had during you and your partner’s anniversary that one time was excellent. Generation 3 of Pokémon was excellent (okay, okay, I’m getting too niche now…).
What I’m really trying to get at is that what we should aim for and expect now is greatness. Last year it was acceptable to be fulfilled by the cute story. We showed glimpses of excellence and it was exciting. But greatness isn’t satisfied with fleeting flashes. Greatness doesn’t get complacent with mere moments of success. For years, being “close” was enough. Close felt like progress. Close felt like healing.
But if this team is really who we think it is— if Julio is really primed for an MVP year, if Logan and Bryan and George stay healthy and collectively shove themselves into top 10 Cy Young voting, then close isn’t the goal anymore. Greatness is.
I don’t want Terrace Club Blues to be excellent in flashes anymore either. I don’t want a few posts that feel hot and then silence when life gets busy. I don’t want to ride the momentum and disappear when it demands discipline.
If I’m asking the Mariners to be great, I should probably hold myself to the same standard.
The time to be great is now.
NJB
Terrace Club Blues 