Terrace Club Blues

Tag: Seattle

  • The Best Unis in Baseball

    The Best Unis in Baseball

    I wish the record was looking a little bit better for my first (of what I hope to be many) pinch hit AB of the year, but I am thrilled to be back!

    The play on the field hasn’t been great this year (though it sure is wild how good back-to-back can make you feel) so I’m gonna take this (6-9, nice) moment to share a take that is truly in the spirit of this blog — something that is not all negative. In fact, its mostly positive! And when I saw a slew of new City Connect uniforms get officially unveiled this week, I knew it was time that someone said it. 

    The Mariners have the best uniform set in baseball. 

    A TLDR for people who are here strictly to read about baseball

    – Northwest green is the best color in sports

    – Navy blue is the best neutral uniform color

    – The Steelheads uniforms are the cleanest of any throwback in the league.

    – The only reasonable argument against the Ms uniform set is that the current City Connects are atrocious. 

    I know that “best in baseball” is a big statement! I will hear reasonable arguments in favor of the Yankees or Dodgers (but not the Cardinals) for teams who have truly classic uniforms, but I still think the Ms do it best. 

    On Northwest Green

    The northwest green jersey is the best uniform top in all of sports. It’s a perfect color that represents its team and its place as well as any you can think of. 

    It’s timeless in a way that most things started in the 90s are not. The northwest green top debuted in 1993 – a time when people didn’t know a lot about Seattle. But as soon as Junior and the M’s put that uniform on, they were the shit. As Jon Bois put it:

    “The Mariners were the coolest team in baseball. In a time when domes were still cool they played in the King Dome, which sat in the shadow of the Cascades and in the middle of a mysterious distant city whose cultural exports were computer stuff, Nirvana, and the Space Needle… A far away futuristic paradise.”

    Choosing a shade of green leaning-teal was a very 90s choice. But it made sense for the Seattle Mariners – a pop of futuristic green up against the deep blue of the ocean. Something that felt a little out there for everyone else but just right for folks in the Pacific Northwest. 

    Everyone else bailed on their 90s looks. The Dbacks, Marlins, and (Devil)Rays – the teams who I think had the most 90s coded color schemes in the 90s and early 2000s – all bailed in favor of branding that still screams 2008. But, the Mariners always kept northwest green in the mix. And, while the jersey did get shelved for a few years, both good eras of Ms baseball have come with the boys in northwest green. I find it fitting that the drought was ended in this glorious jersey. 

    If you’re Gen X, Z, or a Millennial and you grew up in the PNW you have northwest green in your closet and it looks good whenever you put it on. There aren’t many things that launched in 1993 that you can consider timeless, but the Mariners gave us something that is. When you see that color you think of Seattle and if you watch baseball you can draw a straight line straight from Griffey, Edgar and A-Rod to Julio, JP, and Cal. 

    Navy Blue – Simple is Best

    No waxing poetically on navy blue. I think It’s the best neutral uniform color. Black is overdone in sports (more on that later) and navy is both easy on the eyes and representative of the city. It makes sense given the maritime based team name and the color of the water just a few hundred yards from the stadium.

    Having a loud primary color as your main color puts you at a big disadvantage. Using navy as the primary color lets northwest green shine. “Seattle” in silver looks great against the navy, and while I do miss the road grays, I’m never mad that I get to see the navy tops all of the time.

    An Ode to a Classic

    Baseball has always done a middling job of honoring the Negro leagues and the Black teams and players from that era who were not allowed in the major leagues. I’m thrilled that the Mariners have decided to included the Steelheads uniform as part of their full-time rotation because I think it is a sustained, good faith effort to honor their contribution to baseball in the Pacific Northwest.

    Also, they are absolutely fire. They allow the Ms to tastefully depart from the core color scheme in a way that makes sense (to honor a past team from our region) while really highlighting what made uniforms from that era shine. Bold block lettering, thick piping, off-white–I love them. And I love when a throwback isn’t just for a special occasion. 

    Not Connected 

    Remember, this take is mostly not negative. 

    I think the Mariner’s current City Connect uniforms are trash. 

    Black baseball pants shouldn’t be on a professional baseball field (or on any baseball field if a team wants to look good), and they make absolutely NO sense for the Mariners. 

    First and foremost black isn’t in the color palette for any iteration of the Mariners. I’m not a fan of uniforms outside the color scheme unless it makes sense.  I actually really like the idea behind the City Connect uniforms across sports, and think it has been done well a few times: Boston RedSox green monster jerseys – fantastic, Miami Heat “Miami Vice” uniforms – very fun, Trailblazers PDX carpet jerseys – amazing.

    But if you’re doing it just to do it. I’m not for it. Oregon and Nike started using colors liberally in uniforms during the early 2000s and it has permeated all of sports. When teams started mixing black into their uniforms when it wasn’t part of their color scheme, legendary sports uniform writer Paul Lukas dubbed this “black for blacks sake,” and I think that is exactly what is going on here. Someone at Nike wanted to get black into the M’s City Connects because it’s cool and because they are lazy. It’s ugly and it makes a pretty good jersey look silly. 

    I will note that the official uniform description says that black is included to honor the Seattle Steelheads (who didn’t wear black pants from what I can find). Suuuuuuuure. IF that is truly why black was included in this uniform, then I think it was well intentioned but poorly executed. Now that we are wearing the actual Steelheads uniforms surely we don’t need the black pants anymore. Right?!

    Finally, as my brother (the primary author here at TCB) pointed out, this uniform makes them look like scuba divers–or as he put it–literal mariners… Last time I checked, we don’t want the baseball team looking like they are moving through water, but maybe that is just me. 

    In Summary

    I’d also be remiss to not make any mention of the discontinued Sunday crème uniforms. They were fine. I love a cream colored uni, but I never really understood yellow on cream and I prefer the Steelheads look. 

    Anyway, the Mariners current uniform set is elite. The best in baseball despite having one big miss. I wish they would wear the northwest green top more often (and at home!), and I hope they get new City Connect uniforms next year that don’t suck. Look good, feel good, play good. 

    -DB

  • We’re Back At It, Baby

    We’re Back At It, Baby

    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

  • 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

  • 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.

  • 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