My favorite Mariners fan

A love story rooted in baseball.

I apologize for straying from the usual theme of this newsletter, which is data-driven conversations about the Seattle Mariners. Instead, on this one occasion, I would like to talk about my favorite Mariners fan - my wife Carrie.

Carrie and I first met in January 2010 at a now-closed Claim Jumpers restaurant located outside the Alderwood Mall in Lynnwood, Washington. We connected via a dating website and agreed to meet. As first dates go, it was a walk-off home run.

I had deduced from our on-line chats prior to our first meeting that Carrie was an avid Seattle sports fan. But I underestimated the extent of her fandom and sports knowledge. A casual fan doesn’t make the observation that in baseball there is a game within the game.

During that first encounter, Carrie confided in me that she cried upon hearing the news that the Mariners had traded their ace pitcher, Randy Johnson, to the Houston Astros in the summer of 1998. She then quickly said, “but don’t tell anyone.” In later years, I would witness her reveal this nugget to friends. But I took great pride in knowing Carrie entrusted me with a deeply-rooted personal revelation on our very first date.

And then there was “The Double.”

After hearing all about the Johnson deal, I received the full brief on arguably the most important base hit in the history of the Seattle Mariners franchise.

Seattle was facing the New York Yankees in the fifth and final game of the 1995 American League Division Series. It was a win-or-go-home scenario for both clubs. In the bottom half of the eleventh inning, the Mariners were trailing by a run with Joey Cora on third base and future Hall of Famer Ken Griffey Jr. on first base when Edgar Martínez clobbered a double down the left field line. Edgar’s two-bagger would drive in both Cora and Griffey, propelling Seattle to its first American League Championship Series.

But here’s the fun part of this story for me. Carrie recited, word-for-word, the entire radio call of The Double delivered by Hall of Fame broadcaster Dave Niehaus. You can listen to Niehaus' instant classic here…

Sadly, about nine months after our first date, I came home to find Carrie crying. Dave had suddenly passed away. She was so upset about losing the voice of her formative years as a Mariners fan. Carrie was not alone.

Later that week, we would go to a well-attended public memorial for Dave at Safeco Field. I recall his broadcast partner, Rick Rizzs, saying “thank you” to each and every one of us as we streamed past to pay our last respects to Rizzs’ colleague and friend.

Ever since, Carrie would choke up each and every Opening Day when the Mariners would play a recording of Dave reciting “welcome back baseball.” To be honest, I get teary-eyed just thinking about it. Her passion was so genuine - I loved it.

Speaking of Opening Day, Carrie had attended 10 consecutive home openers at Safeco Field when we met. The 2010 season debut would be our first of many baseball games as a couple. Seattle was defeated by the Oakland Athletics that day with now-broadcaster Ryan Rowland-Smith taking the loss. Little did I know at the time that years later I would be on the air with the “Hyphen” when he co-hosted the Wyman and Dave Show.

Before moving on, I must share Carrie’s iron-clad rule for Opening Day. We had to have “asses in seats” at least 10 minutes prior to the commencement of festivities. In fact, this edict applied to all formal ceremonies, such as Mariner Hall of Fame inductions or uniform number retirement ceremonies for Griffey and Martínez.

Carrie did not mess around when it came to celebrating her team.

As for Edgar, the producer of Seattle’s famous double was definitely Carrie’s favorite player. The fact he was great and chose to remain a Mariners for his entire 18-year career made him an endearing character to her.

Other Mariners also held a special place in Carries’ heart. Most notably, Mike Cameron and Franklin Gutierrez. Cameron had the unenviable task of replacing Griffey in center field. But shortly after joining his new club, “Cammy” won over Carrie with a tremendous fielding play. She instantly knew Seattle had found the right man to replace “Junior.”

I’m not sure why Carrie took a liking to Gutierrez. But she vehemently defended him whenever he received criticism for being frequently injured. Like Griffey and Cameron before him, “Guti” was a masterful center field defender. So much so, Niehaus referred to the Venezuelan as "Death to Flying Things."

For some reason unbeknownst to me, Carrie also favored infielder José López. At least, she enjoyed saying an abbreviated version of his name: “Jo-Lo.”

Anyway, our most memorable Jo-Lo moment happened in July 2010 when he hit a grand slam in the bottom of the eighth inning to give the Mariners a 4-1 lead over the Yankees. But there is another chapter to this story.

We were at this game with our friends Steve and Sheri. Unfortunately, Carrie developed pain, which we later discovered to be caused by a gallstone. So, we had to leave early. Despite being in great discomfort, she regretted being unable to witness López’s big shot in person.

The Jo-Lo incident evoked a similarly frustrating memory from my wonderful wife’s teen years.

On Opening Day 1986, Jim Presley hit a walk-off home run in the bottom of the tenth inning off Ken Forsch of the California Angels. Carrie was at the game with her dad. But he wanted to beat traffic. So, they left only to hear Presley hit his game-winning bomb on the radio.

I must circle back to the Yankees for a moment. Although Carrie is a positive and loving soul, she typically did not care for the opposition. This was particularly true with the Bronx Bombers of the Nineties.

As much as I tried to sell Hall of Famer Derek Jeter as being a decent dude, Carrie was not having any of it. Same with Paul O'Neill. Both she and my late mother shared a distinct disdain for him.

Mom didn’t care for O’Neill because he threw temper tantrums in the dugout. She would refer to the Yankee right fielder as “rude.” Carrie used far more colorful language to convey her dislike for the five-time All-Star. Don Mattingly and managers Buck Showalter and Joe Torre were constantly in her sights, too.

Oh, and let’s not overlook A-Rod.

Like many Mariners fans, Carrie was not pleased when All-Star shortstop Álex Rodríguez left the Emerald City via free agency. After reportedly stating his departure had nothing to do with money, Rodríguez signed a then-record 10-year/$250 million contract with the downtrodden Texas Rangers. For years, fans would toss Monopoly money at A-Rod whenever he visited Seattle - Carrie loved it.

As I already said, Carrie’s fandom was rooted in a love for her baseball team - not animosity towards the other side. One of the more fun memories of our Mariners relationship was a perfect game thrown by Félix Hernández on August 15, 2012.

“King Félix” was one of baseball’s best pitchers when he became the twenty-third pitcher to retire all 27 hitters in a nine-inning game. Three things come to mind whenever I reflect upon the events of that magical day.

First, there was the sight of Hernández registering the final out on a called strike three to Sean Rodríguez of the Tampa Bay Rays with Mariners play-by-play man Dave Sims on the call. Félix’s celebration and his pose on the mound instantly became lore in Seattle.

The next thing that comes to mind was Rays manager Joe Maddon getting ejected from the game for arguing balls and strikes in the top of the seventh inning. Following his ejection, Maddon continued to throw a hissy fit on the field. Clearly, he was trying to throw Félix off track.

It didn’t work, Joe.

Finally, there was the interaction between me and my then-new bride on that fateful August afternoon.

Carrie was working at her law firm in downtown Seattle, while I was still active duty in the Navy at NAS Whidbey Island. Near the end of the game, she texted me to report Félix was on the brink of making baseball history. When she reported he had thrown a perfect game, I asked the dumbest question in the history of dumb questions.

I already knew the answer, but wanted to see how Carrie would react. Her response was predictable, to say the least. To this day, I still chuckle about it.

Almost two years after Félix’s historic day, I retired from the Navy. Carrie and I both believed the best way to celebrate this grand milestone would be hosting family and friends in a suite at Safeco Field. The formal Change of Command and Retirement ceremonies were held at Whidbey Island on Friday. The following day we watched the Mariners beat the Athletics 6-2 with Hisashi Iwakuma pitching 8.2 innings.

Shortly after my retirement, I floated the idea of me becoming a baseball blogger rather than working. Surprisingly, Carrie was supportive with a few caveats. I had to agree to drive her to and from work, do all the housecleaning, plus laundry and food shopping. Essentially, I became a houseboy so I could write about baseball. A win-win deal for both of us.

Although my footprint in the blogosphere is rather small, Carrie always encouraged me to keep moving forward. She always demonstrated a great deal of pride in whatever I was doing whether it was the content I was producing or an occasional appearance on a local radio show to chat about her beloved Mariners.

Granted, Carrie did not care whatsoever about the nerdy stats used in my work. Only results mattered to her, which I can respect. Without exception, she would patiently allow me to make whatever long-winded point I was trying to convey by using some obscure metric. Then, she would say, “Yeah, but what’s his BABIP?” just to take a playful poke at me.

My favorite Mariners fan knew what the acronym BABIP stood for, although she could not give a rip about the statistic’s relevance. She just liked the way it sounded.

“BABIP”

Another cool aspect of retirement was Carrie and I could regularly attend Spring Training in Arizona. We went for a week each year between 2015 and 2019. At our very first Cactus League game, we saw rookie Kris Bryant of the Chicago Cubs crush a home run off Félix at Chicago’s Sloan Park. Bryant would go on to win the National League Rookie of the Year.

A far more important Félix moment than Bryant’s meaningless home run would happen four years later - his final game as a Mariner. By then, the skills were regressing. But he was still “the King” to Carrie and I, plus many other Seattle fans.

This was made abundantly clear when manager Scott Servais came out of the dugout to remove Félix from the game on September 26, 2019. There were few dry eyes in the ballpark as the crowd gave the 2010 American League Cy Young Award winner a standing ovation as he left the mound one last time. The tears were flowing in our living room, too.

The 2019 campaign wasn’t a bummer just because it was Félix's final go-around. The Mariners were pretty bad after trading away their most talented players in the offseason. The franchise was undergoing the first-ever rebuild in its history and it plummeted in the standings. Yet, Carrie persevered watching awful baseball in a season that felt too long for all the wrong reasons.

The following year was much shorter due to a global pandemic. But Carrie and I watched another losing season as the Mariners and every other club played in empty ballparks. It’s just what we did.

In 2021, life normalized. We would rent a suite at the ballpark for another joyous event - Carrie’s 50th birthday. The Mariners were not as fortunate this time, losing to the Kansas City Royals. Still, it didn’t matter. Carrie and I were once again able to use the re-branded T-Mobile Park as the backdrop for a shared celebration with our loved ones.

About five weeks later, we would return for the final game of the regular season with the Mariners still having a shot at reaching the playoffs. Alas, things did not go Seattle’s way. Yet, Carrie and I did savor the moment of feeling like part of the Mariners family that day.

This is when our story begins to veer off course.

Shortly after Opening Day 2022, Carrie was diagnosed with Stage 3 colon cancer following a routine colonoscopy. As a result, we were unable to attend any more games that season as she underwent treatment and several surgical procedures. But that didn’t mean Carrie wasn’t paying attention from afar.

As she recuperated from surgery to remove 12 inches of her colon, Carrie watched from a hotel room in Cannon Beach, Oregon as Cal Raleigh hit a walk-off, pinch-hit home run to clinch the organization’s first postseason appearance since 2001. The patience of Carrie and every other long-suffering Mariners fan was finally rewarded.

Once again, Dave Sims nailed the call of an unforgettable Mariners moment…

The Mariners would go on to beat the Toronto Blue Jays in the wild card round before falling to the division-rival Houston Astros in the American League Division Series. For the record, the Astros were forever known as “the cheaters” to Carrie after the team was disciplined by Major League Baseball for a sign-stealing scandal perpetuated by leadership within the organization.

Last year, Carrie and I finally returned to the ballpark. There was even a truncated Spring Training trip sandwiched between chemotherapy treatments. Unfortunately, we were on hand to witness the final weekend series of the year when Seattle fell a game short of making a second consecutive playoff appearance.

Sadly, the wheels completely fell off the wagon for Carrie in 2024. For a variety of reasons, she was admitted to the hospital seven times this year. That said, we were fortunate to make one last trip to the ballpark located at the corner of Edgar & Dave - a day game on May 15 won by the Mariners. After that, nothing went Carrie’s way.

Despite everything she was enduring, I must note Carrie remained steadfastly interested in her baseball team. During her final hospital stay in late July, my favorite Mariner fan would dutifully pull out her iPad to watch her team play every night.

Carrie’s suffering would end at home at 1:50pm on August 19 when she passed away with me at her side. As much as I miss her, I find comfort in knowing she is no longer in pain or dealing with the many complications cancer thrusts upon its victims.

My heart is broken and may never heal. But I am grateful for the love I shared with Carrie. I would not trade a moment of our 14-year journey together, including those trying last few weeks when the inevitable was upon us. Carrie’s beaming smile remained present until the very end. How could anyone not love such a beautiful soul.

I was so lucky.

In the days since Carrie’s passing, I’ve turned on the TV to watch the Mariners play. But honestly, my concentration and interest have waned as each game unfolded. An understandable sentiment I suppose, although the team’s recent freefall certainly hasn’t helped. Still, I know the passion for watching my wife’s favorite team and the sport I love will inevitably return.

Hopefully, the Mariners will reach and win the World Series one of these years. It’s something Carrie so desperately wanted to see. When it finally does happen, I plan to celebrate on the behalf of my favorite Mariners fan.

I am sure a few tears will be shed, too.

My Oh My…