It’s officially the dog days of summer, a term which I take to mean “hot, boring, and full of lassitude and crankiness.” The Mariners, as Bob Nightengale is alarmingly quick to remind us (why are you so obsessed with us, Bob) haven’t turned the odometer over to “4” on wins for the season, and are generally playing bad—and worse, boring—baseball. My dad, a hydraulic engineer who oversees massive, expensive projects on enormous, complicated machines, has had this chart pinned to the bulletin board in his office since I was a wee lass, but I’ve only come to appreciate it after cycling through a few different jobs:
The Mariners rebuild, I’m sorry to say, is squarely in stage two (maybe three) of this process.