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A little know fact, if you have only known me in adulthood:  I love baseball.

And I love the Seattle Mariners the most.

Growing up I tried really hard to be athletic.  I just wasn't.  I just am not.  Back then I loved two sports:  baseball and NCAA basketball.  But I'm not talking about my 1992 obsession with Bobby Hurley in this post.

My freshman year of high school (1993) I wrote the only fan letter of my life to my favorite sports star.  I got his address from my brother's Sports Illustrated for Kids, where I also learned he had attempted suicide as a teenager by swallowing a whole bottle of Ibuprofen. (When I told this to L last night, surprising him with my sports trivia knowledge, he replied, "Good thing it wasn't Tylenol.")  I think I cried when I wrote that letter, overcome with inspiration (sniff, sniff).

In adulthood I have become disillusioned with professional sports--are you kidding me Ben Roethlisberger?  $27.7 million in one season?!  Are you kidding me American public/culture? This is on what we invest our hard-earned cash?

And that is just one athlete...

You know, there are still starving children in Africa.  There are still starving children in Appalachia.  There are still starving people EVERYWHERE while you're cruisn' around on whatever six-digit motorcycle with which you decided to replace your crashed one.

Despite my disillusionment clearly I still soak up meaningless sports information.

Last night, while watching Sports Center (with L, I NEVER watch Sports Center on my own; at least not since the year 2000) it was reported that Ken Griffey Jr. just signed a one year deal to come home to Seattle.  Likely his last.  I got teary eyed.  L thought the tears were due to my stomach flu. Well, that too.

I felt something I haven't felt since the Mariner's won the AL West in 1997 and sent five players to the the All-Star game.  That feeling I had when I first saw Ken Griffey Jr., in real life at the Kingdome, hit a homer.  The feeling I had the first time I sat in Safeco field (and the game almost rained out despite the state-of-the-art retractable roof).  I got excited and hopeful (disillusion's nemesis).  I GOT VIBES!

Vibes are something you feel when Ken Griffey Jr. is about to hit a homer.

If I didn't have the stomach flu, today I would be wearing my Seattle Mariner's sports paraphernalia--boxers, v-neck T-shirt with the old colors and logo, New Era cap, "Ken Griffey Jr. for President" pin--and waving my Ken Griffey Jr. pendent flag.