Folks, it's confession time.
I did it. It's my fault.
I’m the reason the Mariners’ best-ever run toward the World Series ended in heartbreak on Monday evening against the Toronto Blue Jays.
You might blame questionable coaching decisions, missed batting opportunities or flubbed pitches left hanging over the strike zone, but I’m the guilty one.
Why? Because I wrote a congratulatory column before they clinched. I counted my goose-eggs before they were pitched, my strikes before they nibbled the corners, my grand slams before the rye bread and mustard were even out of the cupboard.
Worse yet, I wrote it in rhyme. That was just tempting fate, and to all of you, I apologize.
Incensed by my hubris, Destiny turned its glowering gaze back on longsuffering Mariners fans in the final innings of the final game of the American League Championship Series.
Since the damage is already done (and the column already written), perhaps it’s worth sharing as a memento of an unforgettable post-season run, despite a conclusion that we’d all like to forget.
(The alphabetical format is an homage to the great Ogden Nash’s 1949 “Line-Up For Yesterday: An ABC Of Baseball Immortals,” which my sons and I turned into the “Mariners Line-Up for All Time” four years ago. Consider this an update, of sorts. And if it comes across as overly optimistic in the harsh light of hindsight ... well, a little post-season exuberance will do that to a guy.)
An Ode to the Mariners of 2025
A is for Arozarena,
Randy bashes in homers,
Then steals them by catching
Ones that shoulda been goners.
B is for Brash, Bryce & Bazardo,
They know what to do —
Fast with the splitter,
Slider and four-seamer. Woo!
C is for Cal,
They call the Big Dumper.
Pitch Raleigh the ball,
He'll give it a thumper.
D is for Dan,
Wilson skippers the ship
With a Cal-like mustache
On a stiff upper lip.
E is for Eugenio,
His grand slam so pretty
Grounded the Jays
And shook the whole city.
F is for four,
It’s been four and twenty
Since our last big post-season.
That drought sure was plenty.
G is for Gilbert,
Logan is genial,
But his Walter alter-ego
Hurls fire from the hill.
H is for Humpy,
Not very winnish,
But his 15th inning victory
Led to the M’s big FINish.
I is for infield,
Led by J.P.,
The original Mariner
On this outstanding team.
J is for Julio,
J-Rod has shown
He can hit and enforce
The No Fly Zone.
K is for strikeouts,
We pitch ‘em correctly.
The batters stand looking
Or waving ineptly.
L is for Luis,
He knows the way;
Castillo is casting
Balls for a K.
M is for Mariners,
The spirit of Griffey,
Félix and Ichiro,
Edgar and Randy.
N is for Naylor,
Guarding at first
And peppering hits
In a fiery burst.
O is for outfield,
T-Mobile’s is big;
After we win
Our boys do a jig.
P is for Polanco,
Jorge won it in 15,
Dealing heartbreak to Tigers
And joy to his team.
Q is for quit,
We shall not relent,
Sensing our time
To #SeizeTheMoment.
R is for Rivas,
Leo’s hit led the way
To defeat Detroit
On his 28th birthday.
S is for Seattle,
The city went giddy
With the team’s AL standings
Looking so pretty.
T is for Trident,
They hold it up high
After launching a ball
Far into the sky.
U is for un,
As in unquestionably
Cal Raleigh should be
The AL MVP.
V is for Victor,
Robles put on wings
And sailed in for a catch
So pretty it sings.
W is for World Series,
Oh how we dream
Of victory rings
That sparkle and gleam.
X is the spot
The home run would appear
For the left field hero,
Mr. “Dump 61 Here”.
Y is for yes,
I think I’ll tune in
For a post-season game
Again and again.
Z is for Muñoz
Who closes the game,
Locking in wins
And Mariners fame.
Those are our boys,
The best of our time —
In our hearts, beloved,
On the field, sublime.
Well.
That all sounded good as I wrote it the night before the big game. (Again, sorry about that.)
Just 24 hours later, as we all slumped in the dejection of our hopes dashed into the familiar feeling of lost dreams, my three children responded with verse of their own.
Our family text thread was buzzing with their rhymes from our separate locales in shared misery.
In the spirit of self-help and finding solace amidst the sorrow, here are a few of their stanzas.
We flew up north to face the Jays,
But left our bats in foggy haze.
They hit, we whiffed — a sorry sight,
At least the flight was smooth... right?
The Mariners came with bats in hand,
To face the Jays in rival land.
They gave it fight, they gave it flair,
But couldn’t get enough hits in the air.
‘Twas the top of the seventh
The score 3 to 1,
Threw a curveball to Springer
He whacked a home run.
Two up two down in inning number nine
The Mariners chances hang on the line
Julio Rodriguez steps up to the plate
With three mighty misses, he seals their fate
Good job Mariners
You got us stoked
At the end of the day
Your pitching choked
There you go. The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. So it goes in sports.
As much as the heartbreaking ending to this fairytale season hurts, there is still much to celebrate in the many fine moments of our team’s best-ever run. May their memory be a blessing and a precursor to an even more epic 2026.
The World Series starts!
The M’s are not here
But that’s OK
There’s always next year
•••
Brian Mittge is a community enthusiast who has written for The Chronicle since 2000 as a reporter, editor and columnist. He can be reached at brianmittge@hotmail.com.
