Safeco Field looks so monolitihically huge on the outside, but inside it seems cozy, like every inch is within easy reach. That must be what people take about when they talk about old school ballparks with cozy confines.

My $13 ticket was for the left field bleacher seats, and it was the second row from the back. Yeah, it was pretty far but you could see everything. It was just more of a shitty computer game effect where the ball was a dot and the players all looked the same size (and for reference, Ichiro is 5'9 and new slugger Richie Sexson is 6'8", and you couldn't reall tell much of a difference from section 186).

I realized one problem just 45 minutes before the first pitch: my section was right out in the sunlight, and the sun wasn't going down or shifting out of sight anytime soon, and with a game being 3 hours long, I was liable to get toasted if I just sat out there.

I went downstairs and bought an overpriced Mariners cap that fully shaded my face, so as long as I kept my exposed arms behind my back (as weird as that probably looks) I should be fine. Jamie Moyer was pitching for the Mariners and he warmed up in left field beneath us. Like Greg Maddux, Moyer is old as hell (over 40, and most players don't stay in the game that long) and can't throw any faster than 84 mph (most throw at least 90-95) but uses control and pitch placement to keep hitters off balance.

This family of redheads sat on my right, this bored couple sat behind me in the VERY BACK ROW, these fun frat-esque guys sat below them and an Ice-Cube looking black guy in a G-Unit t-shirt with his two wily kids sat in front of me. The bleacher crowd is JUST LIKE the mytical baseball bleacher crowd, with all sorts of craziness even when nothing's going on.

One of the flat boys mentions that the wind's blowing out towards left. Keep this in mind for later (and guess what? The theme for this entry is keeping things in mind for later.)

The game started. They had all sorts of cracker sponsorship promotions and they had this semi-annoying Weekend for Kids thing where kids were working the scoreboard, the music, the team store, everything. And then the game started.

Texas had Pedro Astacio pitch, who was injured all spring and off the roster right until, oh, NOW, and was given the start. Now, Pedro pitched with the Dodgers for a few years and wasn't bad. Then he bounced aorund to the Rockies and probably three other teams and now pitches for Texas. He doesn't suck, so I'm not sure why teams don't want to keep him around.

The good news is that he should be rusty and/or prone to injury (since he hadn't had a chance to get any work in and show he was OK). The bad news is that since he hadn't pitched in spring training, there weren't any scouting reports on his pitches (key to figuring out how to hit against him) meaning he probably could fool the hitters for several innings, maybe the entire game if he could stick around that long.

So one of two things would happen: either Astacio would strain something and have to leave after an inning, or he would mow the entire Mariners lineup down with stuff they weren't prepared for.

Well... he spent six innings mowing down the Mariners lineup. Moyer gave up some hits and two runs in the 4th, so once Texas went up 3-1 in the 6th it looked like we were gonna lose a very pedestrian, very boring ballgame.

I remember telling myself subconsciously, "You paid 13 bucks to see this game. You better get your money's worth and stick around until the end. Hell, it may turn wild in the last couple innings." I got up (there was a twinge of red patches on my arms but otherwise I looked fine) and took a walk around the concourse. By this point Moyer, who doesn't last very long for a starter anymore (most starters can go 6-7 innings, Moyer goes about 5-6), was lifted after giving up the 3rd run for Shiggy (Shigetoshi Hasegawa, who's just as short as Ichiro), and Shiggy pitched real well. After a walk around the concourse I noticed lots of people were standing behind the lower base sections and watching while standing, obviously had come from other sections, and that this was perfectly acceptable. So I stood behind a section between home plate and 3rd base, had a great view and was much closer to the action. I guess the stadium staff doesn't care as long as you don't steal some cracker's $45 seat. Shit, they can have the seat; I have no problem standing up.

What a strategy: buy the cheap bleacher ticket, and then stand behind a better section and watch the game there. When you get tired and feel like sitting down, go find your seat.

So our other new star, Adrian Beltre, gets a hit and gets on base in the 7th. Big Sexy (yes, one of the frat guys in the left field bleachers called Richie Sexson "Big Sexy") goes down but Raul Ibanez singles and then Randy Winn knocked in Beltre to make it 3-2, and at that point I just HAD to stick around and see if the Mariners could win.

Kevin Mench walked for Texas, then got thrown the fuck out stealing (HA HA). The other guys go down in order, and then the Mariners go to town on some tomato can relief pitcher. Wilson Valdez (shitty backup infielder who was cut by TWO OTHER TEAMS IN SPRING TRAINING and is only playing because Pokey Reese is hurt) gets a hit, Ichiro gets a hit, rookie outfielder Jeremy Reed (how this guy of all people became the starting CF I will never know), who hadn't hit much of anything all season, grounds a dribbler back to the pitcher, who throws a duck to first but Texas second baseman Alfonso Soriano (former Yankee so FUCK HIM) is covering first for some reason, reaches for the shitty throw and Reed runs into his arm and the ball goes flying past. Reed's called safe and the crowd's off their shit. Soriano is on the ground literally playing dead, looking like a Hispanic soccer player sandbagging for a foul call. I'm waiting for the umpire to start a cracker riot by calling Reed out for interference but they know better and Reed is safe.

In the absolute melee, Valdez scored and made it 3-3. Ichiro snuck to third and Reed went ahead and took second while Yankee Reject was playing dead at first. Whatever sidearm reliever was pitching for Texas got lifted and they brought in Tiger Reject Doug Brocail (actually, he's pretty decent). Beltre comes up and shoots a grounder past the infield for a hit and the Mariners take the lead 4-3. That's was Beltre's third base hit; keep that in mind.

Big Sexy grounds one up the middle and Reed tries to run home so Texas throws to home plate. Reed turns towards third, and as they throw to third he turns back, and so on, a rundown, except finally he goes to third, anticipating he'll be tagged out, except here's BELTRE running towards third, and as Hank Blalock, the Texas 3rd baseman, stops as if to say, "Should I tag Beltre out before throwing home?" as Reed turns and bolts for home plate! Blalock finally checks himself, realizing he won't have time to reach and tag Beltre and make the throw before Reed scores, throws home and Reed tries to shake past but is JUST tagged out. And he seriously had all 31,000 of us thinking he was gonna score. But now Beltre's on 3rd, and Sexson, who normally would have been thrown out, is on 2nd.

Keep Jeremy Reed and Hank Blalock in mind, just like Beltre, because it'll matter later.

Bret Boone, the overpaid 2nd baseman who used to be a good slugger, knocks a base hit to left and scores Beltre and Big Sexy. Four runs in the 8th inning. The next two hitters go down but we're up 6-3 after 8, with the closer, Eddie Guardado, pitching the 9th.

Oh, and keep BOONE in mind because HE plays an important role later.

People are actually filing for the exits, and even I'm thinking of leaving, thinking this in the in the bag with a 3-run lead and Eddie pitching. Eddie was battling back from injury but even at 80-90% he's a pretty good closer and he says he's healthy.

The first batter grounds out. It's looking good. Yankee Reject (who I thought left the game after re-enacting Act Five of Hamlet when Reed ran into him... but obviously stuck around) hits a simple grounder to second but Boone earns his $50 million by doing his Bill Buckner impression and letting it roll right between his fucking legs. He even stays stuck in position, puts his head down as if to say, "I just did my Bill Buckner impression and we're two outs from a fucking win."

So Soriano's on first with one out in the 9th. No big deal. Get two outs, game's over, we win. Even if things go wrong, we're up 3 runs and can afford to give a couple.

Hank Blalock, the Texas 3B who solved the Reed rundown dilemma earlier, comes up to hit. Remember when the frat boys mentioned that the wind was blowing out to left? No one had so much as hit a fly ball to left field all night. Blalock takes a few pitches, then blasts one toward the right field foul pole, and it's got enough distance to clear the wall. People jump from their seats: if it lands left of the foul pole it's a 2-run home run, if it lands right of the foul pole, it's a foul ball and the at-bat continues. I can't see the ball from my vantage point, as it's over the horizon of the ceiling, but from the reaction of the fans it was hooking right anyway. The fans get agitated; it's REAL close. It comes into view right before landing right of the foul pole.

WHEW. I look down at the umpire just in case, to see what he signals, and he's waving his arm to my left. FAIR BALL. IT'S A HOME RUN. WHAT THE FUCK?! And that is basically the rest of the crowd's reaction... except it's not WHAT THE FUCK but a collectively exasperated, dejected gasp, because there are kids here.

It turns out the ball WAS hooking right, but stayed left of the foul pole JUST LONG ENOUGH to clear the fence before hooking foul. And you know why? Because the wind blowing out to left kept it fair JUST LONG ENOUGH. Had the wind been blowing any other direction, or been calm, it would have hooked foul. Punch him out, punch the next guy out, game over.

Instead it's 6-5 thanks to Mister Blalock's 2-run homer. We're still leading though. We still only need two outs to win. Eddie, of course, is not happy on the mound, but he can still get the save (relief pitcher statistic meaning you kept the other team from coming back and winning). So of course the next hitter, Michael Young, gets a base hit. Eddie's on the mound and I can't read his lips but I think he's saying FUCK.

Mark Teixeira comes up to hit for Texas and Richard Hidalgo, a good hitter who made the Mariners his bitch yesterday, is on deck. For some reason I'm thinking that if Hidalgo gets to hit, he WILL hit a home run, so I'm hoping for Texeira to hit into a double play and end the game NOW. The next best thing happens, as Texeira strikes out.

Even though we have two outs and only need one more, Eddie is standing off of the mound looking very, very nervous. At the time I'm thinking, "No, don't fucking psyche yourself out NOW," but in hindsight, seeing all that Texas was able to get off him to that point I can't blame him. So Hidalgo comes up. Despite my premonition, I'm hoping Hidalgo flies out to center and chokes it away. I'm thinking I'm just being paranoid, he would have to get a meatball up the middle to-

Eddie throws one on the outside edge of the plate and Hidalgo hits it high to left center. The outfielders float towards left center, looking like it's a routine fly out. Then, as it should be coming down, the crowd begins to groan, an agitated groan, as it hangs and hangs in the air, and the casual looks on the outfielders' faces begin to grimace, their postures turning nervous, as they crane their heads and watch the ball land about five feet past the outfield wall. 2-run homer for Hidalgo. Rangers lead 7-6.

Remember what the frat boys said about the wind?

I groaned with about 31,000 other people. Eddie was flinging his hands around and kicking the grass and whatever else. And then... I shit you not... it started RAINING. Right then and there. Why does it always rain on me? Is it because I... gave up two home runs in the top of the 9th? THIS SONG SUCKS WORSE THAN MY PITCHING.

Eddie did get the next batter to fly out as Safeco Field closed its retractable roof but the damage was done. We hoped the Mariners would get the run back and win it in the 9th, even though punchless catcher Dan Wilson, and Valdez (who somehow had two hits today but is still a terrible hitter) were due up with Ichiro, who can get on base but isn't the greatest at driving people in. Wilson of course strikes out. Despite his two hits, Valdez gets lifted for Greg Dobbs, whoever he is, and Dobbs strikes out. Ichiro works the count full and gets the pitcher to walk him.

Now Jeremy Reed comes up. Remembering all that he made happen in the 8th, he's still young and not much of a hitter, and had no hits today. Plus now he's under massive pressure with two outs in the bottom of the 9th, down one run, with the tying run on base, to get on. That should be too much for a rookie that's not hitting well. So he slaps one past the Yankee Reject that he personally laid out (HA) and gets a hit. Crowd goes apeshit. Ichiro goes to third.

Adrian Beltre's up now. Remember I told you to keep HIM in mind. Beltre already has three hits today, all singles. All he has to do is wait for a good pitch, slap one between a couple fielders, Ichiro scores and we're tied. So what does Beltre do? He swings at the first pitch, tries to knock it out of the park, and instead hits a routine fly-out to center. Caught. Ballgame over, Mariners lose. SON OF A BITCH, Adrian. What'd you gotta try and be a superhero for? Be a team player, TIE THE FUCKING BALLGAME, and let Big Sexy try to win it with nothing to lose. You did it THREE TIMES today. It won't kill you to do it a 4th. Slap it into a gap and tie the game. Sigh.

It was still a fucking great finish and worth the ticket. The first seven innings weren't worth $3. The last two were worth twice what I paid for everything.