OAKLAND--All over Marinerdom the faithful tuned in Sunday afternoon to look and see if maybe, three games into the rotation, their erstwhile boys in grey and teal could snatch not only a victory but a series sweep; and not just any series sweep, but a sweep of the villainous and bilious A's.
The old green-and-yallers were looking especially yaller today in their bright yaller shirts that seemed specifically designed to reflect the sun's rays right into the sunglassioed eyes of our poor outfielders, whose vision is yet accustomed to Seattle's wintry, drizzly, and cloud-swept skies.
The game was even through two, though the Mariners' early mis-steps and missed chances foreshadowed things yet to pass. In the First, Figgy was surely out when he popped an 0-1 into foul territory beside 1B. First baseman Barton, under it, had him dead to rights, but the ball hopped out of his glove and flopped to the ground like a freshly landed fish. Given a second breath of life, Chone promptly struck out. Moments later, designated cheater Cust broke his bat to send a blooper just over the shortstop's head. Score it a single, but it still had molecules from Pennington's glove sticking to it. Then Smoak hits one back to the pitcher and that was the end of it.
In the Ms' Second, Langerhans spanked a 2-2 from pitcher Gonzalez, the Ancient Mariners were up on the board first, and all was well.
In the Oakland half, we were treated to one of those plays that in itself is worth the entire price of admission and then some, like going to the zoo the day the mother rhinocerous has her baby--only it's quicker, and less gooey, and when it's over you want to see it again a hundred times. Matsui on second with a landmark double (2,500 hundred career hits, MLB + Japan Leagues), tags up under catcher Suzuki's pop up to right. Wait, right field? That's where Ichiro roams, as you well know, and he is practically throwing before he's even done catching--running and catching and throwing all at once like some graceful gazelle carrying a bazooka. I imagine that as Matsui is pumping down the base path, time slows down, cartoon-like, and Ichiro's throw looks over at Hideki as it overtakes him, tips its cap, then speeds on into Figgy's glove just a second before poor hustling Matsui. Out!
So the momentum of the game seems to belong to the Mariners; but I just can't seem to shake those harbingers from the Funny First...
And sure enough, in the Third, Kouzmanoff scored on a triple by Coco Crisp. And then in the Fourth, Willingham--aboard on an error by shortstop Ryan--got moved around to third when Suzuki shone the sun in Milton Bradley's eyes on a deep fly, then was scored on a sac by Ellis. Then again in the Sixth, Willingham with a clean double this time, pushed across again by Ellis, this time with a single; and here we are in the Suddenly Sixth Inning down 3 to 1.
The Smelly Seventh, then, was where these proud Seamen would make their proud stand, and all looked promising when Longhorns led off with a double. Even more hopeful when Ryan walked after a stubborn at bat, and with no outs it looked like a Sure Thing we would get at least one of those runs back. Wilson moved them 90 feet closer with a neatly threaded sacrifice bunt. But then Ichiro slapped one right back to pitcher Gonzalez, who took that as his cue to strike Figgy out (again). And that was that.
From bad to worse in the Oakland Seventh. Seattle's starter Fister had been replaced by Lueke in the last inning. Sixth-Inning-Lueke looked sharp. Sixth-Inning-Lueke's uniform was neatly buttoned and crisply pressed. Sixth-Inning-Lueke struck out Pennington on five pitches.
But Seventh-Inning-Lueke handed out a double to Crisp, then two walks to Barton and Dejesus, then a single to Matsui. The Ms' new manager came out to explain to Seventh-Inning-Lueke that while the Eric Wedge Pyramid of Greatness includes "Perspiration," it was now time for a change. Lueke's line: 2/3 IP, 2 K, 2 BB, 2 H, 3 ER, tough first day in the Bigs, kid. Next! How about Pauley? 2/3 IP, 0 K, 1 BB, all inherited runners scored. Next!
But by that time, the score was 7 to 1 Bad Guys, and the Mariners faithful scoring at home had already started another load of laundry and were now stewing over their friends' "Go Rangers" Facebook statuses. They didn't miss much: the last six batters in the game sat down in order, and that score is your Final.
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