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Pitching is the key, but a long season sure doesn't hurt
By Tracy Larsen, for Seattle Insider
Originally published by Cox Interactive Media, April 1999

Let's all get a grip right now: there are 162 games in the season, and so far, the Mariners have lost only three. Okay, so they've played only seven as I write this, but turn that around and their average is an incredible .571. Not bad for a team whose low expectations by the press seem outweighed only by the early predictions of gloom and doom from its so-called fans. An entire season to go, and already the refrain of "WHAT?! This again?!" can be heard from Seattle's couch-bound skippers. 

Okay, I'll confess that I was nearly one of them. Our 8-2 Opening Night loss to the White Sox was disappointing, but more than that, things seemed all too familiar. I even caught myself ready to blame Ayala for another ball sailing over Griffey's shoulder. Actually, I need to admit one more thing:

Like most M's fans, I cheered on high when I heard the news of Ayala's trade. Dogs in distant lands could've heard me. God bless you, Montreal; your faith is stronger than mine.

That news was a glimmer of light in an otherwise dreary spring. And when the first few losses began to wear on me and I began to get, in the words of Yogi Berra, that deja-vu feeling "all over again" - 17 Oakland hits in one game and the one I choose to attend - I reminded myself of just how many games have yet to be played... and I relaxed. We're nowhere near to hitting last season's depths of mediocrity.

Now, since I'm not a cave-dweller, I realize that we've lost Alex Rodriguez to injury for up to six weeks, and both his sure hands and his power will be missed. But not to worry - he'll be back. He's young, strong and still very hungry for the game. And now, of course, we've lost rookie second baseman Carlos Guillen for the rest of the season, due primarily to Oakland's Tony Phillips doing his best Ty Cobb impression (see "Overaggessive Jackass" under Cobb's picture in any encyclopaedia) in a play at the plate on Saturday. Bad news, sure. One week into the '99 season and we're already sending Get Well cards to two of our infielders. Message to Segui and Davis: avoid rampaging outfielders and twisting knees, please. 

But the key to this season - to every season -  is pitching, pitching, and more pitching. A powerful lineup with power hitting is clearly not the Mariners' shortcoming, it never has been (okay, we'll talk about timely hitting another day. How many times did they leave the bases loaded against the White Sox?). Last season, in an ultimately futile effort to balance out their ineffective bullpen, M's hitters slugged their way to 859 runs. But they can't keep that up for another 155+ games. Their arms would fall off first.

No, keeping close games within our reach is key. For heaven's sake, holding sure things within our reach is key. And our new veteran closer, Jose Mesa, holds that key. The mess that was the '98 Mariners bullpen blew an astounding number of both close games and (seemingly) sure things. Holding the score close through the fifth inning is one thing; simply giving the game away in the ninth is another. 

One reminder of that strategy (to baffle and ultimately outmaneuver the opposing team, perhaps) is last season's game in Boston during which the M's lead by five runs - five runs! - going into the bottom of the ninth. Final score? Boston, 9-7.  I shudder when I think of that game. We went through four pitchers in one inning, doing away with eight innings' worth of work by our then-ace, Randy Johnson. No wonder the guy wanted out.

That is what must not, CAN NOT happen this year. Are you listening Mr. Woodward? Fans would begin tearing down Safeco Field with their bare hands and demanding a refund. All the homeruns and beautifully-turned double plays in the world wouldn't eliminate fan anger if they were to witness another season of completely blown opportunities. They don't expect only wins, but watching a bullpen seem united only when snatching defeat out of the jaws of victory is clearly not what they have in mind when they buy their tickets, turn on their TV's or plan an entire family vacation around a single road trip.

Pitchers have the power to make the excessively long baseball season seem either a blessing or a curse. It's a blessing when your pitchers can still win with fewer hits for a few weeks even when an integral player like ARod is hurt. The curse starts when five-run leads aren't enough to hold your team for one inning, when it takes four pitchers just to lose. Visualize that season stretching out in front of you and you begin to wonder about this thing called golf that everyone else yammers on about.

But therein lies the beauty of the beginning of a season: everything seems possible.

Especially when Ayala is in an entirely different country. Oh Canada, indeed.

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