I like Golden Tate.
When the Seahawks first drafted him about a month ago, I didn’t think I’d like him that much. The dude had single-handedly destroyed the Huskies over the years (with a little help from Casey Clausen’s kid brother, I suppose), and because I’d heard so much about him in the media during his time at Notre Dame, he almost had that prima donna reputation that can a follow a talented young player around. Call it the Tebow Effect, or something along those lines.
In the weeks since he officially became a Seahawk, Tate has done quite a bit to earn my respect.
First off, he’s been attending organized team activities (OTAs) despite not having a signed a contract yet. That takes guts. It’s like working for free, with no insurance policy, no safety net, nothing. Every fan should be applauding that move.
Second, early reports from camp on Tate have all been favorable. The consensus opinion is that the Seahawks got a steal in the second round with the former Fighting Irish wideout. And that pleases me. Because the Hawks don’t really have anyone on their roster that has proven to be a true No. 1 receiver in the NFL. But Tate, by all indications, could be just that.
More than anything else, however, the thing that has endeared me to Tate most of all is his penchant for doughnuts, which in turn has led him to a life of crime. Seriously.
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I am not a huge college softball fan. I’m not. I’ll admit it. Frankly, I don’t know enough about the nuances of softball to consider myself a huge fan, and I wouldn’t want to slight the diehards by lumping myself in with them. They deserve better than that. They’ve earned it.
By my own estimate, I’ve watched maybe 25 college softball games in my life. Almost all of them have come via ESPN, almost always in the College World Series.
I’ve been to three games in person. Once to get a free t-shirt, once for free hot wings, and once to heckle the opposing team. The Huskies were playing Oregon. It had to be done. I don’t care if they’re girls. They’re still Ducks.
In the past two years alone, I’ve watched more softball than at any other point in my life. It helps when your team is vying for a National Championship, I’ll be honest.
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If you’ve been to a Mariners game this year, you may have noticed an interesting occurrence on your way out of the stadium. It just so happens that following home losses, the organization has decided to play a lyric-less version of LFO’s Summer Girls as soon as the final out is recorded.
Why a team would backhand their own players like this is beyond me, but it’s worth noting, and so we’ll discuss it. But first, some history.
It’s been pretty common over the years for the team to have a “win” song and a “loss” song. The “win” song is usually some upbeat disco hit (like Celebrate Good Times, by Kool and the Gang, for example), while the “loss” song is typically an aw-shucks whimsical ballad. I specifically remember back in 2004 or 2005 (you know, when the M’s were losing every time out) when the team played Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da (aka Life Goes On) after every loss. Made sense, and provided a semi-upbeat tune in a time of distress.
But Summer Girls couldn’t be farther from sensible when played in the context of a baseball team’s losing effort.
Think about it. Baseball players are often referred to as the Boys of Summer. So what is the team trying to say with this Summer Girls stuff? You catching on now?
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Dear FSN,
A big sarcastic thank you for not picking up the one Mariners game I really want to watch this year. The team is wearing their 1995 teal jerseys (which, I might add, FSN keeps referring to as “green” for some reason), it’s a sunny day, and you could fill the gaps with highlight footage from the miracle season.
FSN, I would like to take this opportunity now to counter your inevitable rebuttal: Yes, I could have just gone to the game. But frankly, I wanted to spend my morning playing basketball at Greenlake, and I did that. It was a great time, I enjoyed it. But sadly, my day is incomplete now that I have come home to find that the M’s aren’t on TV. They’re always on TV, and yet they’re not on TV today. WTF.
That’s basically the end of my letter to FSN. Now for some context.
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I was two years old, going on three, when the Mariners made Ken Griffey Jr. the first overall pick in the 1987 draft.
The story of Junior’s draft selection is one that legends are made of. The team was debating whether to take Griffey, a raw high school outfielder from Cincinnati’s Moeller High School, or the more polished Mike Harkey, a right-handed power pitcher from Cal-State Fullerton.
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I’m gonna need some time to put my thoughts down on this one. This is a tough day. Always knew it would come, but hoped it never would.
For now, check out the Top 11: Ken Griffey Jr. Photos from an article I posted a few months ago.
Gonna miss you, Junior.
Is Eliezer Alfonzo the best baseball player in the history of the world? The answer of course is yes, he is.
Alfonzo, a 31-year-old journeyman backup catcher who has had his skills squandered by foolish organizations in the past, is finally getting the opportunity to threaten every batting record ever after two games with the Seattle Mariners.
The second-cousin of less-talented former big league infielder Edgardo Alfonzo, Eliezer Alfonzo has supplanted Ichiro Suzuki as the most prolific hitter on the Mariners’ roster. His .556 batting average is tops among major leaguers with at least nine at-bats.
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How’s this for a stat.
Entering Monday, Mike Sweeney was 16-for-44 (.364), with six home runs, 13 RBI, and six runs scored over his past 12 games. I learned this while sitting through the M’s pregame show at Safeco Field on Monday evening.
Now you could look at this one of two ways.
You could say, hey, Mike Sweeney’s been pretty damn productive in his last 12 games. And you’d be right. Because clearly, Sweeney has been a one-man offensive juggernaut.
But you could also look at this the way I looked at it.
Re-read those stats real quick. Sweeney has six home runs and six runs scored. He also has 16 hits. Which means that on the 10 occasions when Sweeney got a hit that wasn’t a home run, he failed to score. He also reached base four other times via bases on balls, meaning there were 14 incidences where Sweeney was on base and could not score.
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I like Golden Tate.
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