"O Captain! My Captain!"

For those of you who know me, you probably already know I'm a huge Seattle Mariners fan.  Through the good and the bad, and we ALL know there was a WHOLE LOTTA bad before it got good.  I've followed em either way.  I'm one of those weird people who actually looks foward to the spring and hearing the voice of Dave Neihaus welcoming me to another prestegious night at SAFECO Field.  It's like welcoming home a family member who's been gone for a while.  It just makes ya feel good to hear that voice.  It will be a sad day when he decides to retire.  But today isn't about Dave.  It's bout another member of the Mariners family.  One who joined us all in 1994.  Who, when Lou Pinella joined the team as manager in '93 from Cincinatti, liked this guy so much that he begged the Mariners management at the time to get him.  Since his arrival he became a permanant fixture in the Seattle lineup and in our hearts as well.  He's been a comfort to fans, the community, and especially pitchers.  He played with an all out passion and effort that seems so rare to find in players these days.  We knew any night that he took the field he'd do whatever it would take to help the team win.  Whether it be diving into the stands, dugout, or anyplace else to catch a ball.  Stopping a wild pitch in the dirt, being run over by a baserunner at the plate, throwing a man out at second or third, or laying down a sac bunt.  Though in the Kingdome years there wasn't a whole lotta bunting going on.  Well there was, but they went outta the park too. He sat back there while others got the glory and the attention.  Ever steady, ever the rock.  Always saying the right thing.  Always putting the team first.  He was there when Randy Johnson was more like "Wild Thing" Rick Vaughn than a future Cy Young Award winner.  He was there in the Kingdome when final scores looked more like the Seahawks should be playing than a baseball game.  Those first few years he put fear in the hearts of potential base stealers.  Though he never won a Gold Glove, and only made one All Star Game appearance in 1996 they all knew better.  They knew if they tried to take second the ball would be there waiting for em.  He's given us moments we'll never forget.  The "Refuse to Lose" season of 1995.  The inside the park home run in '97 against the Tigers in the Kingdome.  Who knew a catcher could run???  Though I'm pretty sure they had him on Oxygen after he got in the dugout.  We knew what hearing Salt 'N Pepa's "Whatta Man" start playing meant.  He was there for the bad season in 1994 , the season that saved the Mariners in 1995, and the incredible season of 2001.  He wasn't the one that got asked for interviews.  He wasn't the one w/the big shoe deal.  He wasn't the one w/his name on the posters.  He wasn't the one making a light bat.  He wasn't the one making super human catches over the centerfield wall.  He wasn't the one that would make $250 million.  He was the one that came to work everyday.  He was the one that helped Randy become one of the most feared pitchers in the league.  He was the one that gave confidence to a very young pitching staff full of names we'd never heard of but would soon grow to love.  He was the one that told em, look it's just us out here let's play some catch.  And they did.  So thanks Dan.  Thanks for doing the little things.  Thanks for coming to Seattle and making our team and community a better place.  You are now and always will be one of our favorites.  You'll always be Dan the man.



For those of you thinking all of that seems a little out of place, it was more of an intro to the topic of tonight's posting.  I wrote that a couple of years ago upon the retiring of Dan Wilson, the long time catcher for the Seattle Mariners.  Like the Bronco's losing Elway, and the Dolphins losing Marino, the Mariners haven't been the same behind the plate since.  


Today the Mariners family suffered an even more devastating loss.  Dave Neihaus, the voice of the Seattle Mariners since the first pitch was thrown by Diego Segui back in 1977 died of a heart attack today.  Back when I wrote that original blog I said it'd be a sad day when Dave retired.  Figuring we probably had a good decade left to continue hearing his gentle mid-western tones describe the pictures to us from our boys of summer.  He was a Seattle establishment. A sign of spring and that summer was on it's way.   


Now I could sit here and spout off about the 5,284 games he broadcast for the Mariners, but you'll get things like that in every story out there.  Instead I want to give you the impact he had on me personally and on my small portion of the Mariner family. 


Baseball in America is often passed down father to son.  One of those things that we all just do.  Going out having afternoon or evening catches in the backyard.  It's basically the entire premise of the film "Field of Dreams." Where Ray Cansela builds a baseball field in his corn field, so that he can have the catch with his father he turned down when he was growing up.  For me the relationship with baseball came about a little differently.  I never played organized ball.  Growing up I'd watched my parents play in church softball games and "Pinch Run" in a few of them long after the score actually stopped mattering to anyone.  But I'd never heard or seen a real live game.  


The first memory I have of that is being in Seattle visiting my Grandmother and Great Grandmother (GeeGee).  While we were there they both had the Mariners game on the radio and were listening to Dave Neihaus.  Gee Gee learned to love baseball with her husband while the lived in Nebraska.  Being from Missouri and with most of his family still living there he was a Cardinals fan. So no doubt she got to hear games the same way Dave himself did growing up in Indiana listening to Cardinals games and the great Stan Musial.  


As my visits to Seattle continued in the summer growing up, listening to the Mariners games on the radio is just what we did whenever I was at my Grandmother's house.  With Dave's style of broadcasting and way of setting the scene, you didn't need a TV.  You could see it all perfectly in your mind.  Once we moved closer to Seattle listening to the games became easier to do myself.  By the time this happened the Mariners started getting more games on TV as well. But Dave was still the play by play guy there too.  


During the late 80's and early 90's the Mariners started a program where they would give free tickets to certain games to students who got good grades.  I was lucky enough to be those as were I'm sure plenty of others.  They were never great seats, but to a 10-13 year old boy it didn't matter.  They were free and they were mine.  My first live game in person came in 1988.  It was in the Kingdome against the Twins.  My father and I went together along with my friend Dan.  Dave came with us too as I was sure to bring my glove and my walkman so I could still hear the game on the radio.  The next year it was the Athletics, the seats were a little better and my Mother went with me to enjoy the game.  By then there was a 19 year old kid playing center field and lighting up the dreary grey Kingdome with his smile, with his bat, and with his glove.  


It was that same smile we all grew to love.  Including Dave himself.  For those of you who don't know. That smile belongs to Ken Griffey Jr.  Albeit now a little older, that grin can still light up a stadium.  His relationship with Neihaus started back then and continued when he returned to the Mariners in 2009.  He could often be caught when he wasn't playing on the field, playing in the booth messing with Dave before, or during the broadcast.  


During the unforgettable season in 1995 it was Dave himself who foreshadowed "The Double" that would forever change the future of the Seattle Mariners.  "Right now, the Mariners looking for the tie. They would take a fly ball, they would love a base hit into the gap and they could win it with Junior's speed. The stretch ... and the 0-1 pitch on the way to Edgar Martinez, swung on and LINED DOWN THE LEFT-FIELD LINE FOR A BASE HIT! HERE COMES JOEY, HERE IS JUNIOR TO THIRD BASE, THEY'RE GOING TO WAVE HIM IN! THE THROW TO THE PLATE WILL BE ... LATE! THE MARINERS ARE GOING TO PLAY FOR THE AMERICAN LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! IT JUST CONTINUES! MY OH MY!"


His signature "MY OH MY!" "Fly Fly Away!" and "Get out the rye bread and the mustard grandma is GRAND SALAMI TIME!" echo through all our minds at the mere mention.  They even were used a few years ago in the famous Seattle Mariners commercials.  In which, Kaz Sasaki was learning English the "Dave Neihaus" way.   

Dave Neihaus is the Mariners sole representative in the Baseball Hall of Fame after being the recipient of the Frick Award.. While there's no doubt Junior, Pay-Roid, and The Big Unit will all eventually be inducted. As well as hopefully Edgar Martinez, Dave is still and always will be the first.  I don't know how they can retire a microphone, but it wouldn't seem fitting if his name wasn't hanging in the rafters at Safeco Field where he threw out the first pitch ever on opening day.  It was the fans themselves who picked him to do so.  Alvin Davis was nicknamed "Mr. Mariner", however I think it can be well argued that it's Neihaus who's the true Captain of the S.S. Mariner.  So with his passing I think Walt Whitman's words seem relevant. 

1 O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!	5
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2 O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;	10
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,	15
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
3 My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;	20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead. With that God it's time to put away the Yankees hat, we all know you've got it.  Tell Ruth and Gerhig to stuff it.  Lay out the rye bread and the mustard, cause the grand salami himself is on his way and he'll want to keep watching the Mariners.