Yesterday I dragged myself to the BART train and rode it to the Concrete Monolith that is Coliseum to watch Opener: Erik Swanson. I don’t go to many games, mostly because the Oakland Coliseum is terrible (but getting better!) and so are the Mariners. This, though, was my last real opportunity to watch the Mariners in person before my move.
I bought us decent seats, beers, pretzels—I was invested over $100 into my afternoon at a game in Oakland is what I’m saying. The stadium was nearly empty but not lifeless (whistles inexplicably were used to “rally” the fans, which made the game feel like it was taking place at a public pool overseen by an overzealous lifeguard), and Sabrina and I were two of maybe eight Mariners fans, which made us foreign ambassadors.