Hello, Seattle. The news says we’re going to get between one and twelve inches of snow on Wednesday. One and twelve. That’s a hell of a range. I told my last date that she’d be getting between one and twelve inches when we got home and we never went out again, so, yeah. Good work, local meteorologists. Way to narrow it down for us.
I was at the grocery store preparing for this monstrosity earlier today. I scoured the aisles like I was on Supermarket Sweep, stockpiling all the essentials: microwaveable meals, cookies, Red Bull, string cheese. My cart was a dietician’s worst nightmare. But whatever, right? That’s why we have the Wroten Workout Plan. Unclogs the arteries. Oh, and the Red Bull was sugar free, so there’s that.
Anyway, the grocery store was absolutely packed. I would not recommend going shopping in this pre-Snowmageddon era. If you haven’t loaded up on provisions, you’re probably better off going on a hunger strike for the next couple days. I was in Safeway around lunchtime and it was like a Bayside High School pep rally at The Max. There were seemingly a thousand more people in this single location than you thought previously existed. Hey, you in the crimson track jacket! I’ve never seen you in any episode before. Where have you been hiding, jerk? You just come here for the pep rallies or something? Try getting to class sometime, slacker. Yeah, I’ve seen every show, you’re not gonna fool me.
The great thing about a Seattle snow storm is it causes people to irrationally freak the hell out. Take, for instance, the guy standing in front of me in the checkout line. For one thing, he had about 50 items (granted, he was obese). For another, most of these items were completely unnecessary. Example: he had not one but TWO giant jars of real mayonnaise. Because when the power goes out and the heat shuts off, you’ll need BOTH jars of mayonnaise, sir. Giant sub sandwiches for all! We’re gonna make it. Got mayo for days. We’ll pull through…
Here we are late on Tuesday night and we have yet to see many flakes in the metro area. I’m daring it to snow right now. Let’s bring Jim Forman home! He’s tired of having to go up to Granite Falls and down to Vader just to cover people doing stupid shit on ice. “Hi, Jean and Dennis! You’ll notice we’ve found a man in a 1987 Honda Civic willing to slide down the cliff behind me and jump this ravine while drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon and wearing nothing but this Hawaiian lei we purchased at a second-hand store. Are you ready for this? I know I am!” Jim Forman deserves better. I hope he’s making commission off this.
Perhaps the best thing about all this snow is how it’s taken all the pressure off the city’s newest resident, Jesus Montero. Yes, Jesus, who will save us all, is coming to Seattle. And all we had to do to get him here was relinquish everyone’s second-favorite starting pitcher, Michael Pineda. It’s like we traded two of our best goats for our neighbor’s finest cow. You hate to lose these two, fantastic goats. Buuuuuuuut, that cow is gonna help out quite a bit on the family farm. Pineda was great. We all loved him. But Montero? He’s pretty great, too. We’ll find a way to pour our hearts out in his honor.
By now, I’m sure you’ve read all the specs on Montero. If you haven’t, go here. The dude’s a six-foot-three-inch, twenty-two-year-old power-hitting catcher. The rarest of the rare breeds, an über-prospect with unrivaled physical talent. He’s been compared to Miguel Cabrera. He projects to be a future All-Star. He’s everything you want in an everyday player. We’re absolutely lucky to have him.
There’s always a “but.”
Pineda is an ace-in-the-making. A gargantuan, hard-throwing right-hander who will take to New York City like Godzilla to Tokyo. We, as Mariner faithful, envisioned him as a fixture in our rotation for years to come. His sophomore campaign was going to be the stellar encore to his phenomenal freshman debut. Like Montero, Pineda is just twenty-two years of age. He’s been compared to his former teammate, Felix Hernandez. In his only major league season, he’s already earned an All-Star nod. We were absolutely lucky to have him.
On top of all that, Pineda was wildly popular with the fan base. Almost as popular as the inimitable Green Hydro, I’d reckon. Which is probably what makes this bittersweet pill that much tougher to swallow for all of us. We loved Pineda. And we knew he’d be great. There was no getting around that.
Montero? We think he’ll be a stud. We hope to love him. But we’re not there yet. We just broke up with Kelly Kapowski. And now we’re being asked to believe in Stacy Carosi. I guess it’s okay. We’ll need some time to mend our hearts, however. Can we trust the Jack Z. blueprint? Sure. Do we have to love it right this moment? No, we don’t. That’s the emotional nature of fanaticism.
There is a forecast. It says we’ll likely get a lot of snow soon. We don’t know if they’ll be right, those weather people, but we certainly believe in what they have to say.
There’s a forecast for Jesus Montero, too. It says he’ll be something special. We don’t know if they’ll be right, those baseball people. But we believe they probably will be.
For better or worse, this is our guy now. Jesus. Bring on the storm.