Reader poem conjures up '95 Mariners in take on this team and Franklin Gutierrez injury

Jordan Connors, a 28-year-old Covington native and longtime Mariners fan, posted a poem on a Mariner blog called Lookout Landing, after Franklin Gutierrez's injury, that is reprinted here with his permission. Connors last appeared in The Seattle Times sports section as an all-state lineman for Kentlake High School's football team. He has since received a degree from Stanford and a law degree from Columbia, and plans to move back to Seattle to practice law in October.

Of all the arms, of all the men, of all the teams that play,

The wall attacked our phenom's left, and crashed our hopes away.

His value ever-rising, just months past twenty-five,

But seemed to need revising, after his fearless dive.

Silva yelled "Ay dios mio," Sweeney screamed "Good God!"

Ichiro said "Oyamaa," Bedard gave a fearful nod.

Rick Rizzs exclaimed "the kid is hurt," amidst the somber mood,

The standings said "it's over," and Las Vegas said "you're screwed!"

The clubhouse was quiescent, as the players huddled in.

Silva had a sandwich, but nobody had a grin.

Spirits large hours before, were shrinking ever small

One loss suffered to the Tigers and one suffered to the wall.

The moments passed, the silence crept, encircling as a tomb,

As if their hope personified had died there in that room.

Then suddenly, from the Jacuzzi, rose a man named Ken,

Pausing from his manicure, dropping his "Just for Men."

He put his cap on backward as he declared: "Wait a minute.

The season's just half over, we've got plenty time to win it."

"I once was a center fielder; I was only twenty-five,

When my season was upended by a crashing fearless dive."

"The standings were against us; the news reported we were dead.

With the baseball gods against us, we stared at the ground and said:

"Of all the arms, of all the men, of all the teams that play,

The wall attacked our phenom's left, and crashed our hopes away."

"But a funny thing happened on the way to last place,

Our misfortune brought us closer, gave us drive to win the race."

"We trailed the same old Angels, draped in devil's red,

And five-and-a-half, was thirteen games instead."

"But thirteen became eight, then six, then two, then finally none,

Then we clipped the Angel wings with nine runs to their one."

"So stand up, drop that sandwich Silva, now's the time to choose,

Will we fixate on the standings or will we refuse to lose?"

They didn't say a word, but no words needed saying,

As they rose to their feet, like swords to a slaying.

Griffey channeled Edgar, and Gutz channeled The Kid.

Felix channeled Randy and the way his slider slid.

Ichiro channeled Tino, and those home runs came in handy,

Wash said, "Bless you Belcher, but I'm also taking Randy!"

Lopez channeled Cora, with his endless hustling grit,

Ronny channeled Sojo and his ever-famous hit.

Langerhans took Coleman, and Branyan channeled Bone,

Aardsma took Ayala, till he heard the clubhouse groan.

So Aardsma channeled Nellie, and Lowe channeled Risley,

Olson took the Sheriff and then let his chin grow grizzly.

Rob and Kenji channeled Wilson, Hannahan took Blowers,

Bedard found his inner "Bos" no-hitter powers.

Niehaus channeled Niehaus and Wak he took Sweet Lou,

And Z traded some Newfields for a Benes or two.

And so it was that on that day, despite the gruesome fall,

The Mariners came together like a phenom and a wall.