It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The rotation was thin. The stars were old. The bullpen was untested. The bench was short. The Mariners were built to hang out, not to thrive, like a gangly youth in a Sum 41 graphic t-shirt that was either serious or ironic depending on which crowd they ran with. Yet 72 games into the season the Mariners are 46-26, within a hair’s breadth of the AL West division lead and league-wide desolation, creating a five and a half cart race for a playoff spot. There’s a long way to go yet, but if Seattle finds themselves playing into October it will be thanks to a more nontraditional kind of depth.
No bad guys: the secret to the Mariners’ success is being fine
