After a dandy of a game from R.A. Dickey last night in Arlington, the Mariners return home for a series against one of the least threating mascots in all of sports.

Jarrod Washburn will have to go out to the mound and pretend he doesn’t wish he was traded to a contender, and I’m going to be going out to the park tonight pretending that I don’t miss Adam Jones and All-Star George Sherrill. We all make sacrifices for the love of the game.

I’ll be sitting on the first baseline… that’s right, my seat will have a back tonight. It should be a balmy 60 degrees out, and I’m going to be the one wearing the Griffey White Sox jersey.

Here I am in section 116, in the top of the 2nd. Watch out Geoff Baker - here comes another real-time Mariners blog.

Jeremy Reed made a wall crashing catch earlier in the inning, and just broke even by misjudging a Jay Payton line drive that went for a double.

Yuni is out of the game again… hopefully all is well. And Washburn has thrown 37 pitches, and we’re still in the second!

POST GAME: Aside from five runs scored in the ninth (which was pretty fun), the Mariners bats went dormant yet again. I have an Adrian Beltre hydroplane now… and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it. It’s one of those too nice to throw away, don’t take out of he package because it’s worth something (but not really), better just put it in a box sort of things. If it at least had radio controls and could float, then we’d be in for a fun summer. 

Morrow moves meticulously closer to sustained starting success shortly this season. Meanwhile, ex-reliever Ryan Rowland-Smith  readies for his return from the Rainiers.

Recent roster repositioning may make way for more moves, giving the general manager goosebumps as he gestates Jarrod’s God given gifts and dutifully decides to take a trade, trailing the standing toppers by games in the twenties.

Batista gets the ball, battling baffling bats, thanks to Twins trying to trample tossers tomorrow.  

He writes books, he appreciates music… the “arts” if you will. He also throws baseballs. A win tonight would mean five on the seaon for him… a full quarter of the way towards the coveted twenty-win mark. It would also mean a two-game winning streak for the Mariners. A win-win situation, if you ask me.

The Mariners won tonight, 11-6, and I’m torn between elation and pouting. I can’t help but feel the same way right now as I did when I was little and complained so much for something to go my way that when it did all of the magic was gone.

Through the first part of the game, I was feeling so crushed by Miguel Batista’s inability to get through more than a few innings and the offense’s total lack of energy. With bases loaded in the sixth and no outs, Jose Vidro stepped in to the box and the pessimist in me correctly predicted a double play. Sure enough, the Twins snuck out of that inning after just giving up one run. That was the lowest I felt through tonight’s game - the moment when I thought all was lost and I seriously contemplated turning the TV off or putting in a movie (the horror!).

When Raul stepped up in the 7th, and had his chance at grand-slam glory, it felt different. You knew that this guy had a legitimate shot at putting it out of the park, and he did. Of course, this led way to the ten-run 7th, and ultimately a victory.

Sure I was excited, but I had just spent so much energy thinking about how much the Mariners were hurting me that I couldn’t fully appreciate the win. Like when you were five and cried longer than you needed to, on purpose, to prove a point. Well I’m still hurting right now, Mariners. And I’m going to keep hurting until you make this better.