I decided to share this story with the world because of the passing of Dave Niehaus, the voice of the Seattle Mariners. It really doesn’t have to do with Dave Niehaus per se. However his passing reminded me of it and it is a nice story. Hope you enjoy it.
In the mid-nineties I worked at a place where as long as I got my work done for the day, I could do whatever I wanted. In other words in the morning I could come in, work a couple of hours, leave and then come back later and finish the day.
In 1995 when it appeared the Mariners were going to go all the way, I took advantage of my work situation by applying for, and receiving a position with the security staff to work the Mariners’ home games.
All the rest of the security staff were much younger than I, (in their late teens and early twenties. They were recruited from semi-professional football teams for the most part). And as the old proverb goes: “Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill.” It took me about a minute to figure out how they were positioning the people so I slipped into place where I was given the enviable position of being at the bottom of the 100 level right behind the Mariners dugout. That position is where I watched every home game through the entire post-season. What a great opportunity it was. A memory I will never forget. I can still here the sounds, see the sights and smell the smells to this day as if I was there yesterday.
What this job entailed was that I had to sit on the bottom stair of the 100 level, (I couldn’t have gotten any closer except by joining the team), during the play. Between innings I had to stand up and face the crowd to make sure no one tried to rush the field. Like I was really going to try to stop someone determined to get on the field. There were policemen on the field for that. I think mostly I was just a deterrent.
Where I sat, the seat to the right of me had someone different in it for every game. At one game there was this older gentleman sitting there. He was drinking quite a bit and about the third inning he got brave.
“Aren’t you a little old to be doing this? Having trouble finding a job?” This was the stuff he was saying to me. He was implying that I must not be too bright and not real employable. I took it until the seventh inning stretch. He turned to me and started to say something again when I cut him off with these comments, (I had had enough of this guy’s crap): “How much did you pay for that seat?” I asked him. “Never mind,” I continued, “I know you paid at least $300 for it. I am getting paid $5 an hour to sit right next to you. Now who is the stupid one?” You have no idea how good that felt. He didn’t say another word to me. He wouldn’t even look at me. Oh happy days!!
At the last game when the Mariners lost, they left the field and not one person sitting in the stands moved. They just sat there in silence for the most part. I think it was stunned shock that it was over, just like that. After a few minutes the Mariners came back onto the field and the standing ovation they received and the thunderous applause was like nothing I have ever experienced.
After a few minutes, the Mariners again left the field. And again, no one left. So they came out again, and again; always to the thunderous applause. I don’t think anyone really wanted to leave. The energy in that place was electric. Try to imagine 50,000+ fans, (I am not sure how many people the Kingdome held), all giving a standing ovation at once. All of them were heartbroken and proud of the Mariners at the same time. Finally they had to come onto the loudspeaker and say, “Okay folks, that was the last time,” so that people would leave.
We filed out of the Kingdome, and no one wanted to leave so most of the crowd drifted into Pioneer Square. I don’t know exactly how many people were out that night, though it was easily into the thousands.
As the crowd spilled out of the Kingdome and into Pioneer Square, they were filling the sidewalks and the streets. The police battled valiantly to keep the traffic flowing. After about fifteen or twenty minutes they gave up this useless endeavor and set up a six-block square perimeter. Only people were allowed inside that perimeter. The police had blocked the streets so no one could drive into Pioneer Square.
People were going into and coming out of the bars with drinks. The police didn’t say a word. People were up in the trees lining the streets, there were people leaning out of the windows of the buildings and even on the roofs of the buildings.
(I think the reason for the police being so nice about all of this, especially the illegal drinking on the streets and the other obvious drug use; the air was thick with pot smoke; is because they feared that if they tried to control the crowd too tightly, they just might get out of hand. A crowd that size could have destroyed downtown Seattle if they had decided to riot or something).
I hung out there for a couple of hours. I wanted to soak up the ambience, drink in the excitement, and just generally be there. Again, I do not have the words to describe the electricity, the joy and the general camaraderie among the people there.
Even today, I can close my eyes and be there again. Even writing this has brought tears to my eyes at memory of the bare-naked and raw emotions that were displayed that night. I was never more proud of the Mariners and never more proud to live in this area. That night concluded with no arrests and no injuries. A great night to be alive!!
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