“Still, it was baseball” in Hobart’s 2015 baseball issue

Some short fiction of mine is available now in Hobart’s 2015 baseball issue. The story, entitled “Still, it was baseball,” was inspired by dozens of childhood excursions to the Kingdome. It’s my love letter to the Seattle Mariners, even the players I’m maybe not so kind to in the story (sorry, Bobby Ayala). Fittingly, the Mariners lost last night in extra innings.

Baseball“Still, it was baseball” is available now over at Hobart (image by James Yates)

The day after Opening Day

Most baseball fans approach Opening Day with a sort of ceremonial reverence. It’s an occasion to indulge in nostalgia, allow yourself some unchecked optimism. Part of me is right there with them. I enjoy tradition and pageantry. Plus I really like red-white-and-blue bunting.

Still, as much as I love baseball, I usually don’t get too wrapped up in Opening Day festivities. I look forward to the day after Opening Day because it marks the start of the grind that, to me, makes baseball so appealing. I like the dependability of the baseball season, its persistence. Day in day out, the games are there, even when you don’t need them (of course most days I need them).

This season is especially exciting because my Seattle Mariners appear to be legitimate contenders, which is rarely the case going into the year. The promise of April frequently turns to misery by May around these parts – plenty of Mariners teams have managed to suck spectacularly despite looking good on paper – but I’m allowing myself to daydream, if only a little, about October baseball.

Another cool thing about this season is that one of my stories will appear in the 2015 Hobart baseball issue. The story is set in the Kingdome during an era when the M’s weren’t so good. Look for it later this month. In the meantime, check out the other excellent baseball-related work that Hobart has published so far in April.

I plan to celebrate the second day of baseball tonight at Safeco Field. I’ll sign off with a memento/memory of mine from Oct. 6, 2000, when the M’s swept aside the Chicago White Sox in Game 3 of the American League Division Series. I sat behind the third-base dugout that day. Who knew that 15 years later I’d still be waiting to attend another playoff game?