Despite my team, the Seattle Mariners, having an MLB-high 15 season playoff drought, Opening day is my favorite day of the year, filled with excitement, hope, and anticipation. With Opening day, memories of past summer nights spent at the ballpark come rushing in. I can feel the hype and competitiveness from the series Tronto played in Seattle in August 2014 like it happened yesterday. Felix is lights out on the mound, the full ballpark is infested with Blue Jay’s fans making it feel like an away game. Playoff hopes are on the line, in August, for the first time that I can remember. In the 6th inning, a lighting bolt strikes across the sky as if it were reflecting the energy within the stadium, electrifying the crowd. The M’s win 11-1.
Opening day is the unofficial start of summer. The beginning of coming home every night to watch the same five Root Sports commercials for months on end. It’s the return of the sports radio analysts giving up on the Mariners far too early and making bold claims about players just as prematurely only to once again be all in at the All Star break. With that first pitch, that first swing of bat, nostalgic memories of seasons past wash over me. Baseball season has begun, and with it, the best time of the year.
Opening day brings a sense of pride in my team and city that only sports can manage to do. The last game of the 2014 season, The M’s still had hope for making it to October. If the M’s won their game and the A’s lost theirs, Seattle would get to watch their team in the one game playoff to get to the playoffs. A long shot, but a shot nonetheless. Felix had a Cy Young worthy year, Seager won a gold glove, Cano had an explosive impact his first year with the team. The time felt right. Felix was once again on the mound when the A’s game ended, effectively ending the Mariners season. Almost simultaneously, as the game was being played, a slow applaud, that grew until everybody was on their feet, began. Felix was pulled from the game shortly after and once again, the crowd erupted with applause, as they did with Seager and Cano. You could feel the pride the fans had in the Mariners, seemingly for the first time in years. I was proud of my team and my city.
Come opening day, we can finally return to nights spent at the ballpark. The relaxed, carefree buzz of thousands of people coming together for a couple hours. Little kids filled with glee over their first game, looking in awe at the chaos around them. The salty, warm, inviting smell of beer, Ivars and garlic fries wafting through the air, challenging your dedication to your promise not to waste money on stadium food. Walking around the stadium, taking in the sights of Seattle at sunset, the infectious feeling of contentment that inherently comes with the sense of community at the ballpark, a place where people of every walk of life can come together with ease.
In August 2015, my dad’s best friend took me to the last home game before I left for college 200 miles away. In the 5th or 6th inning, Iwakuma walks off the mound, hitless yet again. We look at each other in with the simultaneous realization of what we are watching. With every inning Iwakuma knocks off, the infectious and nervous energy around the stadium grows. With every batter, the crowd gets more silent, as if making noise would somehow ruin what we were watching, only to make noise when an out is recorded. We watch our words more carefully, making sure not to say two words, the two dirtiest words one could say in that moment, “no-hitter.” When Seager made the over the shoulder catch in foul territory in the ninth, my heart was racing like never before. With the final out, I might have teared up a little, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. We went out to dinner to celebrate, reliving the game in amazement of what we just experienced the whole time. We went to that game expecting nothing but a good day, we left with a once-in-a-lifetime, exhilarating experience and adrenaline rush to fuel you for days. My ticket is now framed.
There is an unparalleled sense of potential that comes with opening day. The unknown is beautiful. Considering that this year, there are a great deal of new players expected to be starting taking over shortstop, first base and the outfield such as, Jarrod Dyson, Jean Segura, Danny Valencia, and Mitch Haniger (who is the current spring training MLB leader in hits and doubles). The M’s aren't the same team as last year. We don't know what to expect. Opening day is our first chance to really see the new team. It’s the start of something new. Any game has the potential for lightning to strike (sometimes literally). Some dislike baseball due to its speed, or lack thereof, but the marathon, not the sprint, that is baseball is exactly why I love it. Your team could be down 12-2 in the sixth and come back to win the game 16-13, as the M’s did last June. With 162 games, you can lose five straight and still make it to October. Opening day is the unadulterated start of this race, void of any losing streaks or slumps, filled with curiosity and optimism that this year might just be the year.
Baseball has not only been the soundtrack to my summers but the setting in which some of my most cherished memories have taken place. Girls nights out, dates, birthdays and nights with family have all happened at the ballpark. Time spent with my dad, no matter what we are going through, happens when the M’s are on TV. I don't have a preference for Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, my favorite season is baseball season. Opening day is to me what the turning of the leaves is to those who love fall. With opening day comes the promise of not just reliving my favorite memories and emotions, but creating more.
