I hadn't planned on the last part, but there it was. On an otherwise perfect night for baseball, with a cool ocean breeze wafting into the stadium, the Mariners got shellacked by Cleveland, 9-0. The game might have slammed the door on their playoff hopes.
At least we each walked away with a Franklin Gutierrez bobblehead.
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First, dinner at the Pyramid Brewery. We sat above the busiest kitchen in existence.
Down the third base line, during Cleveland's batting practice.
The view dead ahead.
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Take it seriously.
Grady Sizemore, homebody, signs a few autographs before the game.
By the 9th, about half the crowd had disappeared. These lads were happy to grab front-row seats during the fateful inning.
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