STILL ALIVE AFTER 5;

TO FANS’ DELIGHT, M’S FORCE GAME 6 TOMORROW

SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER October 16, 2000

Copyright 2000 Seattle Post-Intelligencer

CANDY HATCHER

Summer is not over.

Forget the falling leaves and the morning fog. We’re not through with baseball yet.

The Mariners, Seattle’s boys of summer, unleashed the magic yesterday in a fairy-tale fifth inning that stilled the New York Yankees, if only for a day or two.

The big screen flashed “We’re on a mission!” Mheads woofed and howled. And by game’s end, longtime fans and Johnny-come-latelies were talking about a World Series in a city with no subway.

“Take it one game at a time,” advised usher Marvin Lawrence, who fell in love with the Mariners in 1995 when he watched them come from behind to beat the Yankees in the division series. “As long as we got a pulse, we can make it.”

The Mariners’ hearts – and hits – must last the week, however. Despite their 6-2 win yesterday, they return to New York’s Yankee Stadium tomorrow, down 3-2 in the best-of-seven series.

The Bronx Bombers have history and 25 world championships in their corner. But the Mariners have people such as Jerry Crillo, who came to Safeco Field yesterday with her walker, fresh from surgery.

She couldn’t stay home. Not when her beloved Mariners still had a shot at the championship. Not as long as she still had lungs to yell for the hometown boy, first baseman John Olerud.

Bob Tate felt that way, too. This team is special, he said, and not just because its members play baseball well. “They’re great people.”

Olerud, for example, visited Tate’s granddaughter last month when she was in critical care. And catcher Dan Wilson does a lot for the community, he said, and outfielder Jay Buhner, “he’s a great community person.”

So many fans. So many favorites.

Outfielder Raul Ibanez because “he tries so hard.” Wilson because “he’s a good player, and very approachable.”

Center fielder Mike Cameron because he took Ken Griffey Jr.’s spot and has done “an exceptional job.” Infielder David Bell because “he’s a neat person, and he’s been getting hits.”

General manager Pat Gillick for picking good players, working through Griffey’s departure and putting together “an awesome season.” Designated hitter Edgar Martinez. “Just because.”

And shortstop Alex Rodriguez, over and over. “We hope he’s Stay-Rod.”

The stadium was frenzied, Seattle-style. Fans removed their caps for a blues-guitar rendition of the national anthem, then began woofing as the loudspeaker asked: “Who let the dogs out?” Mheads turned their hats sideways whenever Martinez’s name was announced.

They all seemed to know the meaning of mojo. They all seemed to believe the Mariners could win this series, but none said losing would make a difference.

This team, they said, this season, this day should be remembered.

Seven-year-old John Raynolds of West Seattle was there with his baseball glove and M’s cap, carrying a sign that said: “Unleash the Mojo!”

He hesitated only a second before explaining its meaning. “Unleash the power!” said the boy, who has been a Mariners fan his whole life. He pulls hard for Olerud “because he has the same name as me, and I just like him.”

All over the stadium, parents were showing their children the action through binoculars. Friends were cracking peanuts and trading stories. Fans were remembering when seats cost $1.50, Alvin Davis was the Mariners’ main man and Sweet Lou Piniella was a Yankee.

Greg Mountsier, 54, of Edgewood remembers watching Cincinnati Reds outfielder Gus Bell play at Crosley Field in 1955. He saw Gus’ son, Buddy, riding his dad’s shoulders, and he got Gus’ autograph. Later, he followed Buddy’s baseball career in Texas.

And now he’s watching David Bell, Gus’ grandson, play for the M’s. “Seeing the continuity of a grandfather, son, grandson brings back fond memories,” he said. “It’s not all nostalgia, though. It’s a team you can love, and they also happen to be a good baseball team.

“They’ve given us thrills and chills and spills all season.”

Walter Witt, 82, has seen 1,457 games. He came to Seattle from Minnesota and moved his baseball allegiance with him. He misses his wife, “the best baseball fan there was” – a woman who brought a whistle to blow when something important happened.

Alice Witt died in 1997, so Witt comes to the games alone now. He still enjoys watching the Mariners beat the Yankees. “They always hung in there,” he said. “They never gave up.”

Rita Mae Jones, 70, was cheering with her friend Sam Soliday, 4. She has seen a World Series – in 1967. Sam has not. Both know the cheers, the players.

They’re   ready   to  unleash   the   mojo.