Category: Bloggin’ in the dirt

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Your 2019 Ex-Mariner of the Year is…

Pitchers and catchers report to Mariners camp in just eight days. Winter wasn’t so long was it? Over here at Playin’ in the Dirt we spent the offseason deliberating how the hell to come up with a winner. A man fully representative of the perils, glories, and heartbreaks of ex-Marinerdom. A man fit to join our grand pantheon, a man worthy of the title Ex-Mariner of the Year.

A look at our past awardees:
2016: Mike Montgomery
2017: Munenori Kawasaki
2018: Mike Marjama

“When it’s over for me, would I be hanging on with the Ross Eversoles?”
– RIP Jim Bouton

We’ve lost track of how many beloved ex-hometown favorites are out there, still dancing on basepaths somewhere north of the Ross Eversoles. But just a few stood out, for us, in 2019. Continue reading “Your 2019 Ex-Mariner of the Year is…”

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Football bonding: fun or sex abuse?

So it took a couple days to get my head around this one.

According to the Seattle Times, Bothell High School football players have a hazing tradition called Rape Squad. Now, yes, today, in 2019. It’s a not-so-secret, boy-on-boy pranking thing, and it’s got the community outraged. The fellas call it “jubies.”

Bothell: Nice leafy suburban school. With a creepy criminal secret abusive bonding ritual.   (Google)

Continue reading “Football bonding: fun or sex abuse?”

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No Off Ramp

Review of A Soldier’s Journal: Last Supper to No Goodbye


Why is this here? A book review about veterans, combat, and PTSD — on a blog about baseball and sex abuse? It all makes sense if you think about it. The trauma, the stress, the anxiety, depression, even the tragic suicides we see among our returning vets, follow the patterns seen in victims coping and healing from sexual abuse.

A psychologist or a scientist of any training might tell you: The human brain and nervous system form a network like a vast freeway system. A huge, interconnected, fractal-like web takes us wherever we want to go, however we want to get there, with endless choices of routes and where to enter and exit. And a healthy young brain revels, rejoices in the options the road map offers. Ons and offs abound. Freedom awaits. Continue reading “No Off Ramp”

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Happ nominated Ex-Mariner of the Year

Should have seen this one coming. As soon as Carlos Correa’s bomb cleared the fence last night, before the dance and swagger around the bases, before our man walked dazed from the field… we here at Playin’ in the Dirt should have expected this to pop up.

Baffled. Dude looks like Billy in Beverly Hills Cop after Axel Foley takes him to the strip club: “What the hell did I just see?” (mlb.com)

Continue reading “Happ nominated Ex-Mariner of the Year”

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Still 30 years old, still dreaming

Everybody likes to quote the story’s closing line. It’s a classic, no doubt. But the opener sticks with you. And those first few words stay fresh, forever young, while the part about the baseball gripping you back, well, it gets overdone and worn and cheesy.

Here’s to Jim Bouton, pullin’ up a chair and poundin’ some ol’ Budweiser with Schultz, Mincher, and Oyler.

“I’m thirty years old and I have these dreams,” Jim Bouton began in 1969. Jim Bouton died this week. The papers said he was 80. But he’s still right there in our memories, in the green shining grass of that one unforgettable season of Pilots  baseball, and he’ll never be anything but thirty. Still dreaming. still grousing about Schultz and Milkes, still searching for a place to fit. And we, the lucky fans who saw him pitch, who snuck a peek at his book on the grocery store shelf a year later, who saved our dimes and bought a copy when mom wasn’t looking, well, we still have dreams too. Continue reading “Still 30 years old, still dreaming”