Terrace Club Blues

Tag: Mariners

  • Pinch Hit At Bat #1 

    Pinch Hit At Bat #1 

    It’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got: In Defense of Julio—

    When my brother first shared that he was going to write about the M’s this year, naturally, my first thought was, “I’m so proud that my little brother is pouring his time and talent into something that we both love.” 

    Okay, okay, okay. That wasn’t my first thought (but I swear it was one of the first).  As someone who played in a bunch of those games he was forced to watch when we were kids, someone who LOVES baseball, and someone who tends to think the glass is half full, I love the idea of not-so-negative Mariners takes. So my honest first thought was, “I can’t wait to pinch hit.”

    Serendipitously, the topic for my first appearance presented itself to me a few days before I found out it was my time to write. In one day, I watched, read, and heard three separate Julio takes that I didn’t like. Three not-so-positive Julio takes. 

    Julio’s Contract

    A midday texter on Bump and Stacy (as a core millennial, I love the radio) said Julio’s contract is bad, an opinion I know is shared by others in the Mariners fandom. I completely disagree! 

    I think people balk when they hear the big number; Julio could earn up to $470 million over the course of his deal. But really, his deal is soooooo team friendly. His base annual average value (AAV) is just under $17.5 million which is only the 76th highest AAV in the MLB. A few guys with higher AAV than Julio: 

    – Wilson Contreras (STL)

    – Jung Hoo Lee (SF)

    – Trevor Story (BOS)

    Nothing against any of those guys, all of whom are at different parts of their career and are or were good to great players. My point is that in base salary, Julio is making Jung Hoo Lee money, not Mookie Betts money. The only way Julio gets into the $30 million per year range is if he is consistently making All-Star games and finishing high in MVP voting, at which point we certainly don’t need to have this conversation. 

    Another way to look at it, Julio’s 162 game average WAR is 6.1 according to Baseball Reference (his IRL average over the course of his first 3 seasons is 5.3). Dollar per WAR numbers have been all over the place in the last handfull of years, but data suggests it comes in somewhere between $4.6 million and $9.3 million per projected WAR. Let’s take the midpoint at call it $7 million per WAR per season. That means per 162 games Julio is worth ~$42 million per year. If we use his actual average, that still says he has been worth ~$37 million per year so far. Oh, also he plays in one of the worst hitters parks in baseball and he is 24 years old. 24! 

    And because I love a reference point, here are a few other guys and their 162 game average WAR: 

    – Ronald Acuna Jr. (5.8)

    – Luis Robert Jr. (4.6)

    – Juan Soto (6.2) 

    – Kyle Tucker (5.9)

    – Fernando Tatis Jr. (6.8)

    I know that WAR isn’t the be all end all of comparing players, but it is one of the better, holistic stats we have to see how a player compares to their peers, and this comparison makes Julio look like a bargain.  

    Lastly, because I earn my keep by thinking about politics, policy, and the economy, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention inflation and the time value of money. To oversimplify, a dollar today is worth more than a dollar tomorrow, and because Julio signed a 12-year extension, that means Julio is essentially getting paid 2022 wages in 2032. If inflation for the next seven years is the same as it was the last seven years, Julio’s $17.5 million in 2032 will only be worth around $14 million in today’s dollars, making him even more of a bargain. In 2032 Julio will be 31.  

    Julio’s Profile 

    This Reddit post got me thinking about Julio’s profile as a hitter. This post wasn’t necessarily negative, but it wasn’t positive (he hit much better since this post), and then this post popped up on Sunday, suggesting that Julio “isn’t him” — which is certainly negative. My take on all of this is that y’all are thinking too hard about it! 

    I am not anti-analytics; I’m a data guy. I love all of the data and information we have access to in 2025 (both in baseball and in everything else), but one thing that easy access to data does is make everyone think they are an expert (I know I just made an argument about 162 game average WAR which makes me a little bit of a hypocrite, but stay with me). I think Julio’s “profile” is less complicated if you get out of the data and remember that this is a game where one guy throws the ball and another guy hits the ball. 

    I think the reason that Julio’s profile over the years is so confusing is because he’s been constantly tinkering with both his swing and his approach, which has resulted in some weird patterns in in the advanced data. The thing is, Julio is a vibes guy, an elite athlete who is at his best when he isn’t thinking too much. 21-year old, electric factory, good vibes only Julio is peak Julio. The dude plays best when he isn’t thinking too much, and I think the Dan Wilson regime is pushing him in that direction. 

    Everyone, including those two Reddit posters, is pointing to the advanced stats to tell me what is wrong with Julio. My eyes tell me that he is a dude with elite bat speed and bad swing decision who is a little late a little too often. But the fact that Dan and Edgar appear to be leaning in to who Julio is as a player is a good sign. They are encouraging him to let it eat early in the count and I think that is a good thing. I want Julio taking hacks at pitches in the zone, whenever possible. 

    If there is one thing I’d love to see from Julio, it would be to learn from his fellow countryman Fernando Tatis Jr. this year during WBC play and mess around with a toe stride. If you look at Tatis’ swing from 2024 to 2025 you can see that he took away the leg kick in favor of setting his foot on the ground before the pticher releases — it helps you be early and I think Julio has plenty of bat speed to compensate for the shorter stride.   

    Who you got? 

    Instagram showed me a video of someone saying they would take Pete Crow-Armstrong over Julio if they started a team today. Which is, of course, a very fair take given that PCA is playing out of his mind right now. However, the take was delivered like it wasn’t EVEN A QUESTION, and I saw people in the comments who claim to be M’s fans that agreed! WHAT?! That’s our guy.  

    I think our collective expectations as a fanbase have gotten in the way of appreciating our guy. A guy who wants to be here. Think about it, he’s a home-grown hitter who signed a 12-year contract to play half of his games for his peak production years in MLB’s worst offensive park when he was 22. So many of our great athletes in Seattle have asked to leave: A-Rod, Junior, Russel Wilson. Shit so many of our good athletes have asked to leave: DK, Geno, Jewel Lloyd.

    My point is–and I say this with all due respect to Ichiro, Edgar, Sub Bird, Marshawn, Clint Dempsey, GP, Gus Williams, and anyone else who put on for Seattle–I think Julio still has a chance to be the greatest athlete in Seattle sports history. 

    Imagine if Julio goes on one of his absolutely nuclear heaters in September… or OCTOBER. He has that shit in him, and if he does, or even comes close, and the M’s win a World Series Julio goes to the top of the list. And yes, I know, this is Cal’s team, but I promise there is enough room for both of them at the top. We get so caught up looking around the league, making comparisons, that we forget to enjoy what is right in front of us. Even if he doesn’t ever maximize his potential (because of trash ownership, or injuries, or bad luck, or whatever), I’m going to soak up the sun and enjoy one of the most fun, good-spirited, dynamic athletes we’ve ever seen in the PNW. 

    -DB 

    **Editors note: thank you so much for doing this bro— I love, learn from, and appreciate you everyday – NJB**

  • Oh, How Sweep It Is

    And How Even Sweeper It Could Be Later This Week (26-19)

    From the second week of April into early May nobody in the baseball world could deny that the Ms were on an absolute heater— at one point going 16-5 and winning 9 series in a row (the most since 2003). 

    But still— something didn’t feel quite right— After all, we were doing all of this without Logan Gilbert, without George Kirby, without the “real Bryce Miller”, and without our opening day DH, second basemen, and right fielder. How the hell were we winning all these ballgames? Despite the success, the reality was (and is) that we are a broken roster with many of our best pieces sidelined by injury. Surely something must give.

    Mother’s Day weekend feigned the beginning of our biggest fears. 

    After getting our wings clipped in a disappointing series with the Blue Jays— the Ms managed to scrape 1 of 3 against Aaron Judge and the Yankees at home before heading down the I5 corridor to face the red-hot Dads of San Diego. 

    This was it— not exactly the end of the season, but the beginning of Seattle baseball reality inevitably rearing its ugly head. The fall of the first sad domino of many sad dominos to come— I mean it had to be?

    The catch?— it wasn’t. Not yet.

    Battered and bruised, the Mariners limited Tatis-and-gang to 3 runs of offense TOTAL throughout the 3 game set— leaving them 0 for 21 with RISP, while putting up a respectable 15 runs ourselves. Gutsy performances by Logan Evans, Emerson Hancock and early Cy-Young candidate Bryan Woo led the way, bolstered by their individual confidence in the face of adversity. The end result— a meaningful sweep of our own. A strong wind stopping any sad domino in its tracks.

    What could have been a momentum devastating scuffle ended up materializing as a re-enriched definition of who this team is and why and how they are able to continue winning baseball game at the clip they are winning them.

    Onto The Next!

    Today the Mariners begin a 3 game set in the south side of Chicago against a struggling White Sox club. If they can take care of business in the Chi— as they should— we will be back on track with maintaining a promising handle on the AL West and the rest of the season as important pieces make their way back to the active roster. It’s okay to have hope, and it’s okay to have restraint. Both things can be true at the same time.

    Cheers,

    Noah

  • Wind In Our 1st Place Sails (16-12)

    Wind In Our 1st Place Sails (16-12)

    “The Old Fans And The SEA“

    The 2025 Seattle Mariners harpooned themselves into sole possession of 1st place in the AL West after Sunday night’s series dagger against the Miami Marlins as former 12th round pick Logan Evans navigated 5 smooth innings in his maiden voyage as a big-league starter.

    Of course *and it’s not fun to note*, the reason Evans was given the opportunity to take the helm this early in the season was a result of the “other” Logan’s premature exit on Friday night, followed by the unnerving news that he will be shut down for at least 2 weeks with a throwing-arm flexor strain (which isn’t the worst initial diagnosis possible— but bad for him and the club in the long run however you spin it & I could go on and on about this but I’m choosing to focus on other narratives and will touch briefly on what Gilbert’s injury could mean later).

    “Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is.” — Santiago, The Old Man and the Sea

    Wow. WOW?? Is this what we could actually look like?

    Obviously it’s still too early to characterize in absolute who this 2025 Mariners ball-club is, or to project the overall likelihood of where we will end up in late September, but as promised in my first Terrace Club Blues post— a month is enough to define some cornerstone storylines in considerable depth and to begin an illustration of what this season could look like into the dog days of summer and beyond.

    Channeling my best Hemingway (although that guy was a dick)— I will detail what I believe to be the stories worth talking about so far in this young season.

    The ?Elite? Offense?!

    I’ve talked about it before. Baseball is strange. Intriguingly, questionably, unbelievably strange. To the point that some true realities make absolutely no sense. Maybe that is part of the reason we love it so much. Despite all the hyper-analytical decision making & AI trained, predictive models, baseball will always surprise and as humans I think we love that little bit of unpredictability.

    But if you told me that the Mariners would statistically be the best offense in baseball (if it wasn’t for those damn Yankees) at the end of April I would have told you to immediately stop smoking whatever you’re smoking. 

    The 125 WRC+ the M’s have put up indicates we are 25% better at scoring runs than league average (given all the things that ought to be given) which is 4% better than the Chicago Cubs who rank 3rd at 121 WRC+ and 14% better than the Los Angeles Dodgers who rank 6th at 111 WRC+ 31 days into the season. Give me a hit of that.

    For an offense who struggled immensely (to put it lightly) last year and who kept their line-up basically identical to 2024, how can this be possible?

    A Jorge & Cal Story

    THIS version of Jorge Polanco is exactly what we went out and got him to do last year.

    He didn’t do it.

    Jerry & Co. made the controversial decision to re-sign Polo this winter and run it back.

    This year, he is doing it— and in historically, mesmerizing fashion at that. If it wasn’t for Aaron Judge (man fuck those guys lol) Jorge would be the best offensive player in baseball right now, and every time he is at bat, it just FEELS like he is going to do something great.

    And whether he does or not— oh guess what, the opposing team has to face Cal Raleigh next— the best catcher in baseball and the early season AL home run leader through April. Coming off of a generationally changing 100 million dollar contract extension this spring, Cal is proving why he is this town’s favorite baseball player and this country’s favorite Big Ass Dumper.

    My Favorite Player Though?

    The Flamethrower from Los Mochis.

    There is an argument to be made that Andrés Muñoz is not only the best reliever in all of baseball right now, but that he is the best pitcher in all of baseball right now. As I’m writing this he is tied for 8th in WAR across the MLB, trailing only Hunter Brown and Jesús Lazardo for WAR put up by pitchers. Those other guys? Well, they’re starters. Our closer is putting up MVP numbers through 28 games and 14 appearances and every time he is on the mound it has been an absolute joy to watch.

    As the biggest Muney fan there is, it has been pure poetry in motion for me. The sheer confidence Seńor Heat (lol) proliferates when jogging in from the bullpen is a much welcomed and much needed reprieve from the otherwise inevitable chaotic nature this team fosters on a nightly basis. While we can’t expect him to perfectly maintain the ungodly statistics he is putting up so far, we can and should look to him as a beacon of consistency whose guiding lights are less likely to waver significantly compared to other streaking beams of excellence this team has shined so far (I’m talking about you, JP, who can’t possibly remain in the 140s of WRC+ into June… although if he does, go fucking off, captain).

    The Unsuspecting Hero & The Journey of Reversing Luck

    In Hemingway’s 1952, baseball-adjacent novella, Santiago is a fisherman who has not caught a fish in eighty-four days and is considered salao, (or “very unlucky” for the non-Spanish speakers reading). This seems to parallel the Seattle Mariners’ fate when it comes to position player prospects throughout the last decade-and-a-half not named Julio Rodriguez or Cal Raleigh.

    Most recently, we can allude to the hype and subsequent failings of supposed franchise saving messiah, Jarred Kelenic (who continues to be inconsistent in Atlanta). Prior to the cooler-kicking-kid it was DJ Peterson, Alex Jackson, and Mike Zunino, who couldn’t live up to their perceived potential.

    Before that it was the likes of Dustin Ackley and Justin Smoak who significantly underperformed despite their impressive young portfolios.

    While some of those names never even made it to the show— their profiles are examples of “can’t miss” prospects who ended up being enormously underwhelming. One hopes only so much time can pass before the current of luck changes direction— and that the M’s, much like Santiago, might have an unlikely trophy fish on the hook.

    Ben Williamson is a mother-fucking BALLPLAYER. While it’s too early to make any giant brushstroke value statements, you can just tell that when he is on the diamond he isn’t thinking about legacy, slugging percentage, or how swag he looks in a uniform— he is simply, and beautifully, just showing up and playing like a kid in his backyard competing against his dad and older brother with no one else watching. That particular notion— the notion of a non-highly-touted prospect over-performing— is a luxury this franchise has never really experienced since, well, Kyle Seager in 2011 (that isn’t to say Williamson and Kyle profile the same at all)— but the importance and history of the hot corner at Seattle is a big one, and maybe, just maybe, we have a bright, young kid who can live up to that.

    So much of the rest of the season relies on further news about Logey— whether he can be back prior to the all-star break, or whether we won’t see him until late in the 2026 season. But for the first time in a long time, in spite of all the untimely injuries, I feel like this franchise has the talent, moxie, and grit to be able to face any challenge that may come their way and the collective buy-in mentality to lean on each other, and the next guy up, in an attempt to make baseball history in Seattle.

    “It’s silly not to hope. It’s a sin he thought.”

    Cheers,

    NJB

  • A Few Flowers for Blowers

    A Few Flowers for Blowers

    Some Center-Cut, Barreled-Up Food for Thought (12-10)

    While not sponsored by the EQC tracer (nor the McDelivery SuperMo) I am writing this amidst spending some quality brother time with one of my favorite people in the whole world, CJ Blowers, son of former Ms player and color commentator Mike Blowers, and salt-of-the-earth wonder woman, Nicole Blowers.

    The much needed hangout sparked an impulse in me to shine a quick light on how important broadcasting is in the sport of baseball— and just how amazing it is to see and hear how much Blowers was and is appreciated by lifelong Mariners fans.

    When I first rack my brain, Mike has always just been my friend’s dad— a dad who, with the unwavering help of Nicole, always provided for his kids (and often his kid’s friends), both while playing and broadcasting, despite it meaning constant roadtrips away from the family and long hours at the park during home-stands

    But when I think about it more, especially now that we’ve been exposed to Angie Mentink, Ryan Rowland-Smith, and Dave Valle’s TV analysis for almost a month, I realize he’s been more than that for me. 

    Whenever CJ and I weren’t forgoing ballgames to, instead, play Yu-Gi-Oh on the floor of my childhood living room, or poorly freestyle to the latest Earl Sweatshirt instrumental, Mike’s voice was a consistent summer comfort that perpetually permeated into my subconscious, and a no-frills, fact of the matter cornerstone of reason during plenty of seasons where frills were few and far between and facts (rather than false hopes) needed to be heard.

    Good broadcasting is crucial *and undervalued* in nearly every sport— but in a game where you are exposed to it practically everyday for 6-7 months, the role they play seems to hold significantly more weight when compared to others whether you are aware of it or not. And when you compound that with the 17 seasons worth of commentary Blowers provided, it’s easy to see how proliferating his presence ended up being for the fan base.

    I would be remiss to leave out the fact that Mike was also a significant contributor to the Mariners’ success in the early to mid-nineties. On a star studded 1993 roster, Blowers put up 3.1 WAR on the back of a .280 BA. In ’95 he produced 96 RBI with 23 homers in 134 games. After a few stints with LA and Oakland, Mike retired a Mariner in 1999 and it warms my heart that he was there for the return to play-off baseball in Seattle in 2022.

    Most people’s most vivid memory of Mike Blowers might be his oracle-like “pick-to-click” prediction on Matt Tuiasasopo’s first home run as a Mariner, followed by Dave Niehaus’s iconic commentary upon its coming true— but for me, my favorite Mike memories will always be something like faintly hearing his voice while drifting into a high-school-aged induced couch nap on a Sunday day game as Logan Morrison strikes out for a 3rd time during a forgettable, mid-season 1-0 loss on Felix Day.

    Cheers,

    Noah

  • Winning Cures Everything— Okay Not Really, But We’ll Take It (7-8)

    Winning Cures Everything— Okay Not Really, But We’ll Take It (7-8)

    How Can You Not Be Romantic About Baseball? 

    There’s debate about who first posed that iconically poignant question— some credit filmmaker Ken Burns in his 1994 documentary “Baseball” while others point to Billy Beane in the 2011, Brad Pitt led film Moneyball.

    Regardless, if you’re reading this I probably don’t have to answer that question for you.

    The truth is, like every other aspect of life, it isn’t always romantic. But, man— when it is, it really is— and Wednesday’s series clinching rubber match spearheaded by Randy’s game-tying, 8th inning Grand Slam, in tandem with Friday and Saturday’s victories over the Rangers is a perfect microcosm for exactly that.

    One of the biggest ironies about baseball is that in a sport where they play 162 games a season, (versus a sport like American football where they play 17, or even basketball where they play 82), it feels like baseball is the only one where a single game can change everything. Mathematically that seems counter-intuitive, but in a game all about feel, it sure does feel that way to me.

    Why is this? And what, exactly, makes it romantic?

    To me— it comes down to 3 main things, all based around momentum and all bleeding into each other:

    1.) The Environment of a Clubhouse & the Idea of Sustained Confidence;

    Every professional team sport has a “clubhouse” so-to-speak, both physically and metaphorically. But there is a reason we refer to it as the “locker room” in most other contexts. Objectively, major league baseball is far and away the sport where the team as a whole is forced to spend the most time together, both during play and in adjacent down time. It’s one of the only games where a set duration of “time” doesn’t directly dictate wins and losses, often leading to more on-field time together, and (as already mentioned) a season that consists of 162 (!) games which lends way to many-a-plane ride, communal meals, and rain-delayed passages of time spent, inevitably, together. As a result, success as a team is inextricably intertwined with the collective perception, interpersonal vibes, and sustained confidence they feel in each other on a day-to-day basis.

    In a team sport where success is more-often-than-not attributed to “approach” and mental fortitude instead of physical dominance, the reality of whether a group of people believe in each other versus not makes all the difference.

    On Friday night after the team’s first back-to-back wins of the season we could hear loud music blaring in the clubhouse. A sure sign of guys having a good time in response to an important win. And a team having a good time as a result of an important win breeds confidence, not only in baseball, but in just about everything life has to offer.

    2. The Mechanics and Functions of Baseball Compared to Other Sports;

    Our favorite pastime possesses unique qualities that manufacture a certain brand of fondness in juxtaposition to other sports. One of the quirkiest functions of baseball is that it forces unlikely heroes to do their part. Personally, I love that. Unlike other sports where you can put the ball in your best players hands on any given possession, baseball requires each player to take their turn regardless of the situation, often leading to the thrill of celebrating a big moment coming from someone you’d never see it coming from. To me, that’s beautiful.

    Furthermore, the rules of baseball eliminate the boring reality of manipulating time to gain a competitive advantage. No matter how much you’re up in the 9th, you gotta let the home team bat in the bottom half.

    To quote former manager Earl Weaver, “You can’t sit on a lead and run a few plays into the line and just kill the clock. You’ve got to throw the ball over the damn plate and give the other man his chance. That’s why baseball is the greatest game of them all.”

    Other sports aren’t inherently barren of these qualities, but in basketball for example, the OKC Thunder can force the ball in SGA’s hands to take the last shot of the game in hopes of giving their team the best chance to win, always. With 2 outs in the bottom of the 9th, the Mariners may be forced to rely on Miles Mastrobouni to show up in a big spot and keep the game alive. In football, if your team is down by 21 points in the fourth, the other team can use carefully crafted mathematical calcula— well, you get it. You’re toast. In baseball there is always a chance to come back— no matter the score, no matter the inning.

    In the context of our recent 3 game winning streak, Randy and Cal aren’t by any means unsuspecting heroes, but it was clutch hits by first time Mariners and long-term journeymen Miles Mastrobouni and Donavon Solano to set it up on Wednesday, and an ice-cold relief performance by Carlos Vargas on Friday that kept our hopes alive.

    3.) Fan Bases That Spend So Much Time Watching and Caring

    From the end of winter to the beginning of fall there is a baseball game on practically everyday. Whether you are glued to the screen, or just have it on for background noise, day-in-and-day-out you can watch/listen to your favorite team attempt to either claw out a much needed victory, or lose a soul-stirring heartbreaker late. There is a particular kind of visceral rhythm that stems from this uniquely ever-present company. And it isn’t a one way street— while the fans are inherently reliant on the franchise, the franchise is inherently reliant on the fans. Without Mariners fans to pay for beers, hot-dogs, subscription services, and jerseys there are no Mariners. And even with money-stuff aside, the vibes in the stands mirror the vibes in the clubhouse—perhaps even fueling them at times. It’s an emotional back and forth— and as fans we share the same journey of peaks and valleys as the players, with immediate feedback every single day.

    We don’t just follow a team, we live with it.

    Baseball doesn’t always promise joy, but it does promise to show up— and if that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.

  • Three Losses to the Giants and One Giant Loss (3-7)

    Three Losses to the Giants and One Giant Loss (3-7)

    In Sunny San Francisco—

    The Ms drop their second consecutive series of the season Sunday despite a heroic catch by Victor Robles in the 9th. 

    Vic’s Webgem worthy display of athleticism promptly devolved into collective worry as his warped body awkwardly worked its way out of the webbing of the right field foul net. 

    Robles (27), who ~for the sake of theatrics~ routinely embellishes situations that may or may not have actually caused him serious physical harm immediately prompted those I was watching with, and perhaps others who are familiar with his shenanigans, to reactively gasp “he’s okay…” — After a beat, it was immediately evident that he was not.

    As play stopped tied 4-4 in the bottom of the 9th, his outfield office-mates rushed to check on him before he was ultimately carted off the diamond gingerly holding his left wrist and obviously in a lot of pain. After the game a nervously mumbling Dan Wilson mentioned that it may actually be his shoulder under concern and that we’d know more tomorrow after further imaging.

    The next pitch Wilmer Flores singled into shallow right field to walk-it-off for the Giants.

    In a game where it felt like we desperately needed a win— after an 11th inning heart breaker on Friday and a Robbie Ray revenge L Saturday, a game where Cal & Julio both went deep early to give Woo some rare room to work with against his childhood team— all we were left with was insult to injury.

    So what happens now?

    I’ll keep my thoughts fairly short tonight— partly because it’s hard to be motivated to write about this team right now, and partly because I want to save some bullets for a column in the works for next week. So, three things right now:

    1. I could be wrong, but it seems like Vic is going to be out for an extended period of time. All signs point to Dom Canzone taking his place in right field for the time being. I like Dom, I hope he can show some consistency while he gets another shot to shine. Against opposing lefty starters my guess would be that D-Mo gets the nod in the OF and we cross our fingers that Polanco’s arm doesn’t disintegrate.

    2. We come home tomorrow to play series against division rivals Houston and Texas. The old adage is that there aren’t any must win games/series in April but it sure does feel like if we can’t scrape at least one series win and avoid a sweep in the other, then I’ll be eating my bat tape as mentioned in Thursday’s post.

    3. Okay, bear with me. I have an overwhelmingly emotional take right now and it’s about Dan Wilson. Personally, I’ve never been one to point fingers at managers. It’s a tough job— they aren’t the ones swinging at balls in the dirt or deciding who gets paid or not paid in the offseason. But for the love of god, Dan, PLEASE get more angry.

    During Friday’s frustrating 11th inning loss, anyone who watched until the end noticed Carlos Vargas getting inexcusably squeezed on pivotal ball and strike calls when it mattered most. Vargas who was visibly fuming at home plate ump Sean Barber appeared to be on an island as Dan remained steadfast in his frustratingly unwavering calmness.

    Arguing balls and strikes is almost always going to get a manager tossed, but I think that is exactly what the team needed in that moment. We need some fire! Dan needs to be a part of that. Hell, let’s get another 2022 Winker-esque brawl going— it seemed to work last time.

    Cheers,

    Noah

  • Between the Rock and a Bryce Place

    Between the Rock and a Bryce Place

    Welcome to Terrace Club Blues, and the First Off-Day of the Season (3-4)

    In the weeks leading up to opening day I internally debated whether or not I was going to try and write about the 2025 Mariners.

    As a South Puget Sound native born in ‘97, who played/watched way more baseball in the first 12 years of a kid’s life than should be legally allowed, who was forced to watch the broadcasted demolition of the Kingdome (for, idk, sentimental reasons?), and who occasionally takes pride in being okay at communicating with words— the prospect seemed all-too-teed up. Baseball, specifically Mariners baseball, and writing, specifically creative writing, is my comfort corner.

    But, like any reasonable 28-year-old who is also trying to be a present friend, boyfriend, employee, etc. and who doesn’t think they are the center of the universe, the questions of “would this really be worth my time?”, and “why would anyone care to read words I write about baseball?” kept me close to the bag— and ultimately, I decided not to write about the team this year. After all, I have a demanding day job I care about deeply that brings me a different kind of comfort, and in exchange keeps me away from home and off streaming services for long hours and requires me to miss almost every Saturday and Sunday game.

    Err— rather, I did have a demanding day job that does those things.

    I was laid-off from my dream gig last week unexpectedly. So for now— when I philosophize about “what my time is worth”, or “what people think about my work” I really, really couldn’t give a fuck. But, as cheese-bally as it sounds, impending misery and all, I do give a fuck about the Mariners— even when sometimes I really wish I didn’t.

    In that spirit I’ve decided to let it rip this season and I hope anyone who graciously reads along can find some bits of comfort in this as much as I do.

    Okay, so what the hell is going on??

    I guess we kinda know what is going on. Don’t we?

    Gray-haired-man, Jerry, Justin & the gang decided to “run it back” with basically the same exact team in ‘25 as in ‘24. The same team that nearly struck out more times in a season than any team has in the history of baseball. The same team that consistently struggled to put more than 2 runs on the scoreboard night in and night out (sans the wildly hot hair-up-their ass the club seems to get every August). The same team that spins it with the best of them and serves up quality starts like the team literally depends on such a fickle, baseball-y, made-up stat for any chance to dance after 9 (sorry Logan).

    We knew the writing was on the wall the whole time, so the disappointingly anemic start to 2025, on the heels of a frigidly uneventful winter, comes as no surprise to any of us. Yet that doesn’t really make it hurt any less. I would go as far to say, sometimes when you know something is coming, it makes it feel even worse when the shoe eventually drops. But baseball is weird, and in a 162 game season there are a lot of shoes. As lame as it is— I have to mirror J at J’s Trident’s (an inspiration of mine, good job man) sentiment that we have to give it a month before absolutely turning our hopes out to pasture. 

    We can come to some conclusions, like how Rowdy Tellez isn’t going to be our DH answer, or that Emerson Hancock is what we all thought he was, a very fringe big league pitcher who’s capable of having a few good starts in the show every now and then. But we can’t lose all hope yet. We can keep our expectations low— we can assume this is going to be another Mariner’s team who is decent enough to stay in the hunt but not good enough to win the division, but we can’t and shouldn’t lose all hope yet. If we’re 9-19 after April, I’ll eat my bat tape and do some soul-searching, but for now, we have to resist the urge to be Reddit degenerates (yes, I know it’s “fun” and that “it’s not that serious bro”). The communal agony is appreciated, the unaccountable and anonymous nihilism makes me want to yell at clouds.

    Anyway, it was nice to scrape a win against Skubal yesterday. That doesn’t make up for the less-than-mediocre offensive performance we’ve seen, but it’s a consolation that I will take anytime. So after 7 games, and an underwhelming opening homestand here are a few brief thoughts and one central take.

    1. Gabe Speier looks great. Will be huge for us if he can continue to be nails until Brash is cleared and healthy. If he can consistently put up good numbers against righties, he could be a legitimate set-up man for the time being and an important piece throughout the season regardless.

    2. Tellez, Garver & Bliss look lost at the plate. I mean, I could put a lot of guys on this list, but their at bats look the worst to me. At Least Bliss is playing serviceable defense in the meantime, and I have a (very small) sliver of hope that Garver can turn it around, but other than that— it doesn’t look good.

    3. Muney, that sweet, sweet, adorable, sicko. We know what kind of Muney we’re getting that day after 2 pitches. Sometimes his control is just not there at all. Somehow, despite any shakiness, his stuff is just so off the charts nasty that he can houdini it on any given night. I love Muney, he might be my favorite M, and his cat is so adorably ugly, so I’ll probably talk about him alot, but man does he scare the absolute shit out of me.

    One Central Take:

    It’s not exactly the anemic offense in itself that is the most frustrating thing to suffer through when watching the 2025 Mariners so far— it’s the optics of watching the anemic offense struggle so badly. If I didn’t happen to watch every game and only checked the box score, I’d think “hmm, they are having a really hard time at the plate and pitching is keeping them in games”. But when you actually see the at bats they just look terrible. It’s an awful product to watch so far. If I was Nintendo, I’d be trying to get my patch deal back, because nobody can even begin to perceive the un-welcomed, red eyesores when such obviously terrible approaches are searing blindspots into all of our retinas.

    But I mean it when I say a month. In the meantime, let’s talk soon.

    Cheers,

    Noah