I stood and cheered. As soon as Bruce Bochy began walking to the mound, I stood. I knew he was coming out and just in case this would be the last time I could cheer for Randy Johnson, I wanted it to last as long as was feasible. So I began clapping as Bochy was still ambling toward the hulking figure soon the be the center of everyone's attention. Others joined in, the cheers swelled as Randy handed the ball off and it began sinking in that this was it. More people stood, soon everyone was, and for one last time, Randy was given a standing ovation in Seattle.
I was laying on the floor of my family's living room, eyes rapidly shifting between the TV set to Baseball Tonight and the clock on the wall. I didn't want the inevitable to come and every second that ticked closer to 9pm was both a reprieve and even more crushing anxiety. Which might sound weird, but have you ever rooted for, or been, a massive underdog in a match and had that person or team be winning close to the final? You can get good examples of this during first round March Madness games. A good percentage of the time that happens you can see a change in the eyes of the underdogs. They start to become aware of what they are on the verge of, what they have accomplished so far by still being a possible victor this late in the game. And that's when the pressure hits and that's when 90% of them fold. That's what this felt like. I didn't want to acknowledge that it was so close to 9pm, that it was close to the deadline and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't happen. Well, 9pm came and went and still no word, but as the TV cautioned, word could still trickle in and at 9:05, per my recollection, it did. Randy Johnson was headed to Houston for three players I didn't know. Fold.
I wasn't at the Kingdome for any meaningful part of the 1995 season, but along with my many, many, memories that I carry from that season are two involving Randy Johnson. Neither are that surprising, but how many fully appreciate his performance against Anaheim in the playoff? Everyone remembers the end, the point and Niehaus' call, but do you remember the 17 straight batters retired to start the game? This was the biggest game in Mariners history and Randy came out, on three days rest, and was perfect through 5.2 to start it. Four ground balls, two pop ups, two fly balls and nine strikeouts. His final line included 125 pitches, 24 swinging strikes, three hits, a walk and 12 strikeouts.
The other was Randy coming out of the bullpen in Game Five. Forget the run he would give up in the 11th, forget the dominating way he shut down the 9th and 10th innings. 
Everything special to me about that was just the very act of Johnson coming in. This was us riding this magical wave of impossibleness, and our backs up against a wall again. Who did we turn to against the Angels? Who did we turn to in Game Three? Who were we turning to now in Game Five? We were putting the ball in Randy's hands and telling him it's his. It's on you, Randy and we hope you can do it for us one more time. Lou Piniella said before the game that Randy Johnson could be used for 1 inning max. He wound up pitching 3. As he walked in slowly from the bullpen, I cannot describe the emotions going through me then, but they're why I'm a sports fan. It was hope. It was faith.
I was sitting there, staring at the scene taking place some 200 feet away from me. Thwack! Whiff, thwack! Over, and over again. I was mesmerized by what he was doing, every batter, every pitch. Rick the peanut guy was passing by but for once, six-year-old me wasn't interested in watching him fire peanut-bag shaped bullets to patrons. I was busy watching someone even more impressive. Randy Johnson was nearly untouchable that day. He was nearly untouchable for his career.
There's plenty to say about Randy Johnson. His career numbers are outstanding, legendary even, and he left a huge mark on two different fan bases, neither of which had seen much like it before. I am not even going to hint at attempting a proper recap of Randy Johnson the player. He deserves a full on novel to adequately sum up his contributions to baseball and the cities of Seattle and Phoenix. But I would also be remiss to let the marking of his official retirement go by without writing something about what he meant to me.
I'm not 100% sure when I went and saw my first Mariner game at the Kingdome. Memory is fickle, especially at such a young age. I know it was somewhere between 1990 and 1992, that it was against the Yankees, that it was during the summer and that we lost. I believe it to be the August 7th game in 1990 because I have a vague memory of really liking Erik Hanson during my early childhood and it fits the above criteria. The when is not really important.
I would go to about six games a year. The how was always the same. I would eagerly await the appearance of the those little baseball pocket sports schedules that would dot the cashiers of local stores. Once I got my hands on a Mariners one, I would immediately begin scanning the back cover which listed all the giveaways and promotions for the year. Five, six, seven-year old me was consumed by those giveaways. Free mini bat night? Check. Free lunch box night? Pass. I was too cool for corporate promo lunch boxes.
After narrowing down some games that way, I would turn to the actual schedule and begin systematically optimizing the games I would later plea to attend. I wanted a good mix of teams and a good mix of dates. I didn't want to go to five games before June, that would ensure a long summer with no trips into Seattle. I would think it over for about a week and then present the games to my father and he would inevitably capitulate. That was my yearly routine.
Attending the games was a routine as well. I would climb into my father's truck* and we would drive south to Seattle. We would listen to the pregame on the radio, a little ritual I was sad to discontinue once I became enlightened enough of a fan to despise most of the pregame fluff, and talk about baseball. It's where all of our conversations ended up anyways, and still do, no matter the original subject.
*he used to do a lot of yard work around the house during weekends and was one of the few people I remember at the time who actually made use of having a truck. I'll never forget the smell of an entire truck bed filled with bark.
We would pass the same buildings on I-5 each time and I learned how to tell time by them. 25 minutes from Northgate, 20 minutes from the bridge and so on. We would drive a few exits further south than most to avoid the city congestion around the stadium and because my dad worked near Airport Way and we could get free parking there and then walk. It might be a trick of my memory, but I seem to recall always seeing the Rainier R right as we got off the interstate and that's when I would start getting excited. Even at that age (unless my memory is lying to me), I loved a beer icon.
We would park in the same place each game, take the same walk to the stadium, me skipping ahead for my first look at the ugly roof of The Dome, always that weird contrast in the summer Seattle skyline, a sad dusty gray color reminiscent of a Seattle winter sky framed against a backdrop of our typically brilliantly blue summer skies. We would get up to the gate, collect my inevitable freebie, and head to the souvenir shop. If it was the first game of the year, I would get a program that I would later memorize. A hot dog for each, a beer for dad and then to our seats where we would dutifully remain for every pitch, every inning. This was baseball, this is what we shared together.
One day was different than those. It was the middle of August, 1991 and my dad told me we were going to a game. I was confused because I hadn't picked out this game. Dutifully, I followed through with our usual pregame activities while my mind was busy trying to figure out why we were going to this game. What was different today? Finally after we parked, got out and started our walk, I piqued up and asked why we were going to this game. "We're going to see Randy Johnson pitch" was his answer.
I knew of Randy of course; I knew the entire team, but I don't think I had seen him pitch before. Not just in person, but on TV either. It seems weird now, with roughly 160 games on FSN, but there was a much smaller percentage of games were on TV then and I used to have to rely on the 20 or so games a year that KSTW-11 showed. My primary means of connecting with the Mariners on a day to day basis was through Dave Niehaus and the radio. It's why, to this day only my father comes before Niehaus in terms of happy memories from childhood.
Randy had been a Mariner for about two full years at that point and was mostly remembered for leading the league in walks in 1990. He would do that in 1991 and 1992, along with hit batters, too. It's weird to look back and realize that Randy was already 27 at the time. It will be 2013 when Felix reaches the same age that I first saw Randy Johnson pitch in person.
I don't remember many concrete details about that game. Looking back now, I am bemused that Edgar Martinez was our lead off hitter. I remember the date. I remember Junior went deep and I think that the was the first of his home runs that I saw live and I wonder which will be the last. I remember that Randy Johnson seemed to be of some other world. An unhittable giant on the mound with blazing speed. I remember the 1 under the H on the scoreboard. That 1 came in the 9th inning. I remember a lot of strikeouts. I was hooked.
I remember how his pitches seemed too fast to watch. How the Athletic hitters seemed to agree. How the impact of leather covered ball against leather catcher's mitt seemed to echo in the half-filled Kingdome. I remember watching a lot of missed swings and sad walks back to the dugout. I didn't remember the actual number, I had to go look that particular piece of information up. It was 27. 27 times an Athletic swung and missed that night. When Felix is on, he mixes all four of his pitches and keeps hitters guessing. Randy did it with a fastball and a slider only. He was something else. He was a god out there.
I don't know if it was because of that, and later, experiences watching Randy Johnson or not, but even as a youth, I was fascinated by pitching. Pitchers seemed to dominate the action to me and nobody in my world dominated quite the way Randy Johnson dominated. Boston fans must have had a similar experience with Pedro Martinez. We have something that can approach that at times now with Felix, but to me it's a distinct sort of appreciation. Felix is about hoping to be there when he harnesses all his immense talent and blossoms into the best pitcher in baseball. It's about the greatness of being able to have four good pitches and his precocious age and some maddening stubbornness. I feel more like a parent, than a fan, of Felix.
With Randy, it wasn't about his age. It wasn't about what he represented in terms of potential and hope. It was about what he already was. A guy with a 100-mph fastball, Mr. Snappy and a demeanor that seemed constantly pissed off that anyone dared step into the batter's box against him. Felix is a different type of pitcher. We never know when he's going to mix in the offspeed stuff early, we never know when he's going to rack up the strikeouts, or go for efficient ground ball outs. Felix can delight us in so many different ways. Randy was Randy. It didn't matter the day, the opponent, the ballpark, Randy was there to strike everyone out. He was there to be his 6'10" self, standing atop a mound, daring you to compare yourself to him because he knew you wouldn't measure up.
Don't get me wrong, I love Felix and maybe if he's here long term and matures into what we hope he does, it will be like it was on days Randy was starting. For now, though, it's a little different experience. Part of Felix Day is about the long term potential for Felix. 
I watch Felix not only because he's great already but because I don't want to miss it when he has his Nolan Ryan moment. Felix Day is special. I enjoy it, I look forward to it, I hope it stays around forever, it's great. Randy was different though. I watched Randy because he would awe me. He didn't need to mix things up to keep it interesting. He knew what worked and boy did he deliver.
I have been holding out hope all winter long that Randy would return to Seattle for one last year. It seemed too fairy tale, but with the way the past year has gone, what was too impossible to hope for anymore? He could come at a discount because of his superficially poor season last year. We had a need for a veteran, high-upside pitcher in the rotation. He could re-unite with Griffey and the two could share their final season in Seattle and non-trivially as well given that Randy's upside represented a significant upgrade to a team that already was among the division favorites. Mostly, I wanted one more chance to cheer for him. One time as an adult with the freedom and resources to go to games whenever I felt like it. I wanted to thank Randy for what he meant to me growing up. It's not going to happen and for that I'm disappointed, but I'll get over it. I'll remember that first game. All the almost perfect games and no-hitters. 1995. I'll remember that last game, when Seattle stood up and said thank you and he, in turn, tipped his cap and thanked us.
Thank you, Randy.
31 recs | 96 comments
Incredibly put, Matthew.
My greatest memories involving Randy:
1. Being at the game in 1993 when he threw his 300th strike out of the season. I knew 300 strike outs in one year was special, but thinking back to it now, I had no idea just how awesome the feat was.
2. Attending multiple dominate victories of his in 1995, including opening day and his 15 K’s over 7.1 innings against Oakland. This is why when the playoffs came, I never doubted him. I had absolute faith we were going to beat the Angels, and with him and Edgar leading the way, I never feared being eliminated against New York.
3. His visit to Safeco last May. Matthew described this moment much better than I ever could.
katal - January 8, 2010
katal is the shit pimp
hairofthedawg - January 9, 2010
Fertilizer salesman and nitrogen fixation specialist?
Decatur - January 9, 2010
Beautiful.
waldo rojas - January 8, 2010
I think it got a bit dusty in my room
That was excellent Matthew. I feel tremendously blessed as a Mariners fan to have seen some truly legendary players pass through my life, but you’re right, there’s nothing that quite compared with the feeling of going to a Randy start.
I was there for the one-game playoff, and trust me, I remember exactly how unbelievable he was. I was 11 at the time, and once he got into the sixth with the perfect game, I was sure he was going to throw one. Then, I think was probably the only person anywhere near as pissed as Randy when Tony Phillips hit that 9th inning home run (with the M’s up 9-0), because Randy deserved that shut-out.
The other thing I’d mention is that for a guy who got a fair amount of flak for being moody, selfish, etc, he was totally willing to put his career on the line to win a game: not just the three innings in Game 5 in 95, but him coming out of the bullpen on no days rest in Game 7 against the Yankees in 2001.
Randy will remain one of the most unique players in baseball history: that body, the mullet, the arm slot, the ridiculous slider, and long battle with his control: obviously, we’ll never see it again, and in a way that makes me happy.
Sportszilla - January 8, 2010
My best Randy memories
1. 95 game 5… Pretty much ’nuff said. I was up in the left field bleachers for that game and just remember not being able to talk for a month or so after.
2. The no-no against the Tigers (89?) I was only 5 years old or so, and I didnt know specifically what a “no hitter” was, but watching this monster mow down Tigers was something I never hope to forget.
3. Watching Randy in Arizona against the Dodgers.. So many Dodger fans at the BoB were just rendered silent.
seattlesundevil - January 8, 2010
Hey, I was in the left field bleachers for the '95 playoffs too!
I wonder if we high-fived.
okdan - January 8, 2010
That makes three of us.
Two Rs and Two Ls - January 8, 2010
Four!
pdb - January 8, 2010
I really hope we all high-fived.
okdan - January 8, 2010
No, really, I just have something in my eye...
My favorite memory of Randy is the first Mariners game I really remember going to. Some years, we didn’t even go to a single game, but in 1995, my dad decided that since he had a chance to take me to a playoff game, he had to do it. We were in the upper deck for Game 3 and I cheered my lungs out as Randy K’d 10, walked 4, and have up 2 runs in 7 innings to lead us to our first playoff win. Every time I saw Randy as a kid, I pretty much got just as pumped because of that game.
It was awesome to see him tip his cap to us one more time last summer. One of my favorite moments of 2009.
BrettJMiller - January 8, 2010
Well done, sir. Well Done.
I nearly cried when Randy got the standing ovation in Seattle. I cannot imagine what it would have been like had I been at Safeco.
My wife’s law firm represents the Giants and she got tickets to a special lunch where Lincecum and Johnson were going to be at her table. We were nice and gave the tickets to some sick little kid and his dad. Fuck me for being nice.
InSpokane - January 8, 2010
Rec'd for being an awesome person and giving up those tickets.
kentroyals5 - January 8, 2010
Very well written!
vj - January 8, 2010
You know what is amazing and also a bit unwise?
Getting really stoned and then watching Randy strike out 19 batters.
Sec 108 - January 8, 2010
Most excellent...
Matthew, I think this is the best piece of writing I’ve ever read from you. Don’t shy away from this stuff – I know it’s not easy to write like this and it takes special inspiration at times. But this is one to add to your “best of…” portfolio. Excellent stuff!
PositivePaul - January 8, 2010
God damn, my early 90s Mariners memories are so similar to these stories. Nostalgia is a motherfucker, this got me choked up.
Sigh.
sanford_and_son - January 8, 2010
This might just be your masterpiece
Your descriptions of the trade, driving to the game, Felix Day etc are almost spot on with my memories. Bravo Matthew.
Robert - January 8, 2010
Masterpiece is exactly right.
royalcurve - January 8, 2010
Randy Owned Me
I have 2 favorite moments of RJ in Person:
1) August 8, 1997 vs. CWS.
I was sitting on the first base side, 14 rows up half way up the first base line. I was 16 and it was the 1st time I had kept score at a game. Randy struck out 19 that night. The 2-5 hitters all struck out a minimum of 3 times each. My scorecard read “K,K,K,K,K,K.” Edgar and Griffey also homered that night, Bonus!
2) Sometime time in 1990 I was a short 8 year old trolling for autographs at the Kingdome. Randy was signing near the M’s dugout. I was standing on the rail and he got to me. Him being his 6’10" self was staring me straight in the eye. I stood there silent and he said, “Do you want me to sign something?” I said nothing and handed him my ticket with a pen. He laughed and said, “you ok?” I still couldn’t say anything.
I will always remember these moments and the glorious mullet that accompanied them.
JaaronGriffeyJr - January 8, 2010
August 8, 1997 is the game I reefer to above. Amazing game.
Sec 108 - January 8, 2010
I get it. Subtle, but well-played.
esoteric - January 8, 2010
In 1996 (I think), I had a large Mariners wall calendar with Randy on it.
The idea was to put K stickers up on each of Randy’s starts. There was a lot of K’s on that thing.
I wish my then-young memory weren’t failing me of being at game 3 of the ’95 ALDS.
xero3k - January 8, 2010
Thanks for this, Matthew
July 24, 1997. Went to the game with my then girlfriend (an Indians fan). Randy (!!!) was pitching. 11 Ks in seven innings at sold out Jacobs Field in an 11-1 victory, and I was relishing every minute of it. It was a long, silent drive back to her place after the game, but those scalped tickets were worth every penny! No homeruns, but apparently Alex Rodriguez committed an error so there’s that.
jnbt02 - January 8, 2010
My eyes aren't watery, what are you talking about?
Fantastic piece. Thank you.
My favorite Randy memory is a vague one: I went to a game at the Kingdome with my brother, dad and grandfather. I don’t remember the year or the opponent (wanna say Texas but not positive), but I do remember it was a pitching battle. My brother and I were a bit disappointed that there wasn’t much in the way of offense (and I think the M’s were losing), but then my father turned to my grandpa and said “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many strikeouts.” We started paying a bit more attention to how many Ks were being hurled by both teams and got more excited at the prospect of seeing a historic game. Sure enough, when my grandpa checked the paper the next day it said the game had the highest K total in MLB history.
thebyron - January 8, 2010
Did a little research...
Must have been 7-13-1997 (against Texas, good memory). Randy struck out 14 in 7, Ayala struck out 4 in two innings (but lost), and Bobby Witt struck out 9 in 6.2, with Texas relievers (including Wetteland!) striking out 4 more, for a total of 31 Ks. Still is the record for most strikeouts by both teams in a 9-inning game.
edgar is good - January 8, 2010
Thank you!
I tried looking it up but couldn’t figure it out.
thebyron - January 11, 2010
My Randy memories
I was at Game 5 in 1995 (center field, upper deck) and watching Randy Johnson come out of the bullpen in the 9th was the most surreal and memorable experience of my life. I mean, you talk about Edgar’s double being drama. Randy’s entrance was right out of a freaking movie script. It was like we were watching the movie Major League, and Wild Thing Vaughn was coming into to strike out Clu Heywood. It was the exact same feeling! Only this wasn’t a movie, this was real life. And Randy wasn’t coming in to strike out Clu Heywood, he was coming in to strike out Wade Boggs. And instead of “Wild Thing” we were being bombarded with the pounding beat of “Welcome to the Jungle.”
Unbelievable. I still think of that moment every time I hear Welcome to the Jungle. I can’t help it. As a baseball fan, I don’t think my life will ever be able to top that. Like a previous poster said, after game 5 I wouldn’t be able to talk for a week. My mom was sitting right next to me, and the crowd was so loud that I couldn’t even hear her.
Oh yeah, and the best part of it all? Watching Wade Boggs’ shoulders slump when he realized Randy was coming in to face him backed up loads of adrenaline. Literally, even from the 300 level you could see his body language. There was 0% chance he was ever going to get a hit (or a sac bunt) off Randy in that particular scenario. Randy was pumped, the crowd was pumped, and he was throwing about 150 mph.
Also, thanks for pointing out how underappreciated Randy Johnson’s performance was in the one game playoff. I mean, yeah, most people remember that he beat the Angels 9-1. But most people DON’T remember that he practically threw a freaking no hitter against them. The Angels were never going to win that game. Ever. It was the most important game in Mariners history (even today, I’d still say it was #1), and Randy nearly threw a no hitter in it.
We’re never going to see another pitcher quite like the Big Unit. It was an honor to be a Mariners fan in the 90’s because of him. And yes, this is in spite of the fact that he’s probably a legitimate psychopath. Although who knows, maybe his psychopathy is what made him so special. Maybe crazy is good compared to more stable and predictable players like Edgar.
In any case, thanks for the memories, Randy!
MarioMangler - January 8, 2010
I was a bit young to have appreciated Randy with the Mariners
but I do remember going to the game on the day he was traded and noticing that he wasn’t in the dugout. I seem to remember not understanding why he would be traded and listening to the post game show on the way home to try to piece it together.
Mariner John - January 8, 2010
My memory of Randy (and really anything Mariner-related pre-1995) is really fuzzy.
I didn’t grow up in a big baseball household, and as far as I knew the Boise Hawks and Oakland A’s were the only baseball teams that mattered. This was a nice read. Helps jog my own recollection of those early-90s years.
Teej - January 8, 2010
Great work Jeff
.Taylor - January 8, 2010
Kidding, kidding. Amazing post, Matthew.
I never had a personal Randy moment, as I was only 9 when he left. I guess I missed out.
.Taylor - January 8, 2010
Matthew's writing has a style that is distinct from Jeff's writing and this type of comment, while it may have been funny the first time Matthew wrote a nonstatistical post, is completely unnecessary
Not to pick on you specifically, but I think the “Nice writing, Jeff” comments after non-Jeff written posts have been sufficiently dead memed and I’d be insulted if I were Matthew, even knowing they are meant as jokes.
Dewey N - January 8, 2010
In that case, I apologize to both Matthew and Jeff.
.Taylor - January 8, 2010
Aside from all of the amazing post-season games...
Maybe the most vivid RJ moment in my mind, is when he was pitching against McGuire in his prime… I don’t remember the count or other details of the at-bat, but Randy threw in the heater and McGuire was just waiting on it, and timed it perfectly.
Just pure power on pure power. I swear to god that ball flew out to dead center in the matter of 2 seconds. For some reason I remember it hitting the old scoreboard by the jumbotron, but I’m almost sure that’s physically impossible. Either way, it took me a while to pick my jaw up off the floor.
okdan - January 8, 2010
I seem to recall it going into the upper deck in center-left-center.
They called it 538 feet. Not sure how much I believe that, but it was pretty incredible.
Teej - January 8, 2010
It was dead center and it almost cleared the bleachers in the second deck as it was still elevating
when it hit. With no bleachers that ball goes 600 feet easy.
Sec 108 - January 8, 2010
The bleachers shouldn't affect any measurement if they're doing it right.
It just doesn’t seem like anyone was doing it right back then.
Teej - January 8, 2010
I have no idea how they did it back then.
Sec 108 - January 8, 2010
Really long tape measure
pdb - January 8, 2010
I was sitting in right field, and it seemed like it went left of center to me, too.
But I had a weird angle on it.
In any case, the crowd just went dead silent for a couple seconds. It was eerie, and probably the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen at a baseball game.
rickpo - January 8, 2010
I was sitting in the 300 level on the third base side.
The ball was absolutely crushed. The crowd silence was waiting for the official measurement. If I remember correctly, the initial measurement said it was like 490 feet. Everyone was amazed, but disappointed because they knew it went much farther. They corrected it to 538 feet an inning or so later and people were much more pleased, but still disappointed because without the bleachers and Kingdome walls, it would have been in the parking lot.
Wilder. - January 8, 2010
I was sitting in right field as well
So my perspective on it was probably skewed as well. I do remember the crowd silence, though. I was with my mom at the game, and we both shut up for a good minute, followed by an hour of “DID YOU SEE THAT!?”
okdan - January 8, 2010
I was sitting ~50 feet away from where it was hit in the nosebleeds.
Indeed it darn near DID hit the big-screen scoreboard. I was stunned. I remember RJ tipping his cap or something to McGwire as he rounded the bases.
When you look up “power-on-power” in the dictionary, there should be a photo of that moment as part of the definition…
PositivePaul - January 8, 2010
Nice!!
okdan - January 8, 2010
I was looking for a video of that homerun and found this...
Slate article: The Myth of the 500-Foot Home Run
rickpo - January 8, 2010
Does a video even exist because I have been searching for it for years.
EnglishMariner - January 8, 2010
I've never found it.
It exists somewhere, because I’ve seen replays on TV, but it’s pretty elusive.
Teej - January 8, 2010
I've read that article and my issue with it is that he is mixing stories.
McGwire hit one to LF on one occasion and then to CF on another. Did it go 538 feet? Probably not. But the one I was referencing went into section 236 and not 240.
Sec 108 - January 8, 2010
This game perhaps?
He hit two in an inning, and if I recall correctly, both were went upper deck, but not center – left/left-center.
I can’t imagine someone reaching the upper deck in center. The longest I ever saw in the Kingdome was Jim Thome off the facade of the upper (3rd) deck in right-center, more center than right. And Dave Valle robbed by a low-hanging speaker above the center field warning track. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a dream.
david h - January 8, 2010
I first started casually watching baseball around 2001.
Back in those days there would be one game shown here a week, late at night. I remember being fascinated by the pitchers and how fast they pitched the ball. Obviously the faster the pitcher could throw it, the more interested I was in that pitcher. Randy Johnson was something else.
I had no idea what the rules were, I had no idea what a ‘walk’ was or an ‘error’. It would take me several years to decipher the rules from watching the broadcasts. All I knew was that this huge guy with massively long arms and funny hair threw the ball harder than any guy I had even seen player cricket. After watching him a few times I would find myself tuning in wondering whether he would be pitching. I had no idea what team he played for, only that if he was pitching, I wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night.
As the years progressed and I watched Johnson more he became my favourite player. This was before I was a Mariners fan. I remember watching the highlights of the perfect game – I didn’t know what a perfect game was, I just knew it was amazing because the guys on TV said that it was. I was delighted when he was traded to New York because it meant that he would be shown on our screens even more. Those next few years were a true delight, and as I learnt more about the game and its history I started to appreciate Randy even more.
That speaks volumes for how much of an icon the guy is. I loved him, and he wasn’t even playing for my team. It would be some time later when I even became a Mariners fan, and later still when I even knew that this guy had pitched for us and done some incredible things with an M on his head.
Knowing that he wore our uniform for so many years … it’s an honour. I wish I would have had the chance to watch him pitch for us as a fan, but if it wasn’t for players like him I probably wouldn’t even be a fan of baseball. I owe Randy Johnson a hell of a lot.
EnglishMariner - January 8, 2010
The Giants Game this year was my son's first baseball game
May 22nd
Felix Bobblehead night
RJ pitching
My son was just under 6 weeks old
What a great night that was.
CMC_Stags - January 8, 2010
Fuck all the people who say Seattle doesn't have real fans.
This was the best thing I’ll read all day.
zeeehjee - January 8, 2010
I like how everyone's favorite memory of Randy is
seeing him strike out a shitton of batters.
I mean, it couldn’t have much to do with the fact that he threw ten or more strikeouts 212 times, could it?
craig3410 - January 8, 2010
Is that stat accurate? If so, you just blew my mind. That's incredible.
EnglishMariner - January 8, 2010
He's the all time leader
in K/9: 10.61.
He’s one of just three with 10+ K/9 (Kerry Wood, half a reliever, and Pedro are the other two, and if Pedro pitches this season for any length of time, it probably will be just two.)
philosofool - January 9, 2010
Yup.
http://tinyurl.com/yj9vjov
Randy Johnson: From 1988 to 2009, (requiring SO>=10), sorted by greatest SO
Games found: 212.
craig3410 - January 8, 2010
Reply fail.
craig3410 - January 8, 2010
Matthew
When Randy is elected to the Hall of Fame you need to write a letter like this to the Hall of Fame, persuading them that must go in as a Mariner.
I’ll never forget what Randy did for us, but also his Eagle Hardware commercials.
OceanBird - January 8, 2010
Neyer had a post about this.
It’s hard to argue with the 2001 WS ring with the Dbacks and the 4 Cy Young awards.
Although, the argument could be made that his move to the NL allowed him to pad his K’s getting a couple free ones every game from the 9 spot. It will certainly be an interesting debate.
hcoguy - January 8, 2010
I know, and it's tough
I’ll always feel like Arizona didn’t deserve him.
They caught lightning in a bottle with that signing, as a team that was only one year removed from its conception. Two years after he signed they go on to win the World Series in what was supposed to be our year, all while he racks up the Cy Young with that team. The worst part about all of it is that franchise’s fanbase hadn’t matured enough to fully appreciate what was going on.
OceanBird - January 8, 2010
You didn't write this from your own perspective.
You wrote this from the eyes of every child growing up in the Seattle area between 1989-95. I can’t thank you enough for this homage to Randy Johnson.
I remember when the Kingdome would have 20,000 extra fans every 5th day because of one man. Felix will never do that. Randy was an enigma, a world wonder when standing on that mound. Everyone’s eyes were locked on Randy with each pitch because you already knew the result but wanted to see the emotion from the mullet being whipped around. For Felix, you have to watch the batter’s reaction to understand how good he is. It’s not the same and never will be.
Great post. It brought back my childhood memories of everything described (from grabbing a pocket schedule and scouring the games I wanted to go to, riding to the game with my dad, and recognizing the greatness we were watching on that mound at such a young age). Thanks for the write-up.
Wilder. - January 8, 2010
Randy ruined baseball for me
Growing up, Dad would take me to four or five Mariner games a year. He always picked out these games using one variable – who was pitching? We ONLY went to Randy Johnson games. Dad figured if he was going to spend the money to take the family to a Mariners game, we might as well see the most exciting pitcher in baseball.
Then for some reason – it must have been ’93 or ’94- I wanted to go to a Dave Fleming game. The nine-year-old me had an inexplicable love for Dave Fleming and I wanted to watch him pitch in person. Dad obliged.
Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that non-Randy Johnson pitchers DON’T strike out 10+ batters every game and throw 100 mph. “Where are all the K’s?” I remember frantically searching the Kingdome facades for the long line-up of “K” banners that accompanied every Randy Johnson start. They weren’t there. Dave Fleming wasn’t Randy Johnson. No one was Randy Johnson.
For the rest of my life, every non-Randy Johnson game has been missing that little something.
fmh2 - January 8, 2010
This is similar to what Felix is doing to 5-10 year olds. Great post.
kentroyals5 - January 8, 2010
Wow.
I am watching Game 5 of the 1995 ALDS because Jeff and Matthew inspired me with their recent posts. Anyway, I am continually amazed by the Kingdome atmosphere every time I watch this game. I love Safeco Field, but never can it replace the Kingdome at heart.
Wilder. - January 8, 2010
Yep
People say that Safeco saved baseball in Seattle, but watch ‘95. The Mariners had such a home field advantage in that place when the Dome was rocking. The Seahawks knew this for years, but the Mariners didn’t figure it out until 1995 when the Yankees were totally rattled by the place. And by then of course the Mariners already had one foot out the door.
It’s too bad the Kingdome wasn’t always like that, because that place was a HUGE advantage during the ’95 playoffs. Imagine if a team that good was always playing inside it.
I basically grew up in the Kingdome and it broke my heart when it was torn down. Safeco is great of course but it sure doesn’t have the same intimidation potential.
MarioMangler - January 8, 2010
Wild!
This series was Mattingly’s only career post season appearance?
zeeehjee - January 8, 2010
Yes and Mattingly can bite me
Yep, and that was what was so awesome about us coming back to win it the way we did. Not only did we advance to the ALCS for the first time in Mariners history, but by doing so we also denied Donnie Baseball his first (and last) shot at playing in a World Series. And you better believe all the national baseball writers were covering the series from that particular angle. Nobody outside Seattle cared that this was the Mariners first postseason. All the stories on espn and cnn, etc., at the time were all about Mattingly and the Yankees. Oh, the beloved Yankees were in the playoffs for the first time in 14 years. It was classic east coast national media bias. So when the Mariners came back and stole the focus away from Mattingly— in the manner we did—- it just made it even doubly awesome.
I even had a sign I brought to the Kingdome for Games 3, 4, and 5. It said “Mattingly aint ever going to the World Series. Screw him.” I wanted them to show it on ESPN, but alas they didn’t.
MarioMangler - January 8, 2010
Donnie Strikeout!
It’s funny – I loved chanting that during those games in 1995. When I rewatched the game a few days ago, I actually felt a little bad for Mattingly. He seemed like just another old player, and not the overrated Face Of The Yankees™. Still, I’m glad to have inflicted that pain on all the Yankees fans and their media toadies.
njpozner - January 8, 2010
F the Yankees
Anything that inflicts pain on Yankees fans and the media has always been in the best interest of the rest of America. :)
MarioMangler - January 8, 2010
It pains me greatly that there is now an entire generation of people for which Yankee postseasons are a birthright
pdb - January 8, 2010
For whom, even
pdb - January 8, 2010
How are you watching it?
I’ve been looking for that game for a while, is it available somewhere?
waldo rojas - January 8, 2010
Yes, mlb.com under the baseball best games section. I also believe it is on iTunes.
EnglishMariner - January 8, 2010
Cheers!
waldo rojas - January 8, 2010
MLB.com
My MLB.TV subscription gives me access.
Wilder. - January 8, 2010
He's really gone, isn't he?
Poochie - January 8, 2010
I see you have reached stage four.
waldo rojas - January 8, 2010
I'll be in denial until the season starts and he's not on a team.
Until then, I will continue to hold out hope.
Fear - January 8, 2010
If Big Mac comes back for even one pinch hit appearance this year, I'll hold out hope for RJ.
Clemens was doing it before Favre even thought about it
Kermit. - January 8, 2010
Excellent piece, Matthew.
Getting to watch Randy pitch at Safeco last May brought tears to my eyes. The man was always a giant in my eyes. I was also fortunate enough to see him brought in as relief last September. I hadn’t anticipated getting to see RJ pitch, and it was thrilling to see him striding to the mound. I’m so glad I got that last glimpse of him pitching.
Kirsten Schlewitz - January 8, 2010
Power outage at the Kingdome
The RJ game that stands out in my memory is a game whose date I don’t remember. The power went out mid game, with Johnson on the mound. Backup power only restored some of the lights. The game was delayed of course.
two_hands - January 8, 2010
Amazingly written...
Things like this remind me why I love this stupid game so much.
dkulich - January 8, 2010
Perfection!
section331 - January 8, 2010
Loved it
It brought back a lot of memories. I remember when i was 6 or so (early 90’s) getting the newspaper and almost every day looking at the leaderboard for the M’s to see Griffey’s HR total and Johnson’s K total. When the M’s were really bad in the early 90’s, this kept a young baseball fan going.
Edgar for Pres - January 8, 2010
Excellent write-up, Matthew
I was always a huge fan of his. I met him once, back at Spring Training in 1996. My family and I were walking down the sidewalk next to the training facilities and as we approached the driveway to a parking lot a huge Ford F-350 truck came barreling out, nearly hitting my brother and I before screeching to a stop. My dad yelled out at the driver, who rolled down his window. There, staring back in all his mulleted and crater-faced glory, was RJ. He looked at my dad, then my brother and I, mumbled out “sorry,” and drove away. It was awesome
tootthekazoo - January 8, 2010
Haha.
Awesome story.
Wilder. - January 8, 2010
I can't believe I was at his no-hitter almost 20 years ago
And likewise, I can’t believe we left in the middle of the 8th (had to pick up my aunt—I still haven’t forgiven her).
JordanB - January 8, 2010
I remember trying to guess when Randy would pitch
When I was a kid, we lived on the wrong side of the state to just drop everything and go to a game. It had to be planned at least a week or two in advance. Made it a little tough to get to see him (saw a lot of Chris Bosio and Dave Fleming :( ) but we timed it right once or twice. Being there for a Randy Johnson-pitched game was an event in itself. My most vivid memory of Johnson as a Mariner, aside from the obvious and already beautifully stated, is a game in Oakland one year (I don’t really remember dates that well). I was listening on the radio while at another game, I think it was a high school game. It was a non-televised game, so it was Niehaus (with a smattering of Rizzs) throughout. I was much more engrossed by Niehaus’ descriptions of Randy’s dominance than whatever game was physically unfolding in front of me. Randy took a no-hitter late into the game but lost it in the 7th or 8th. He had struck out 17 through 7 shutout innings, so Niehaus was frequently mentioning that he was flirting with Roger Clemens’ record of 20 K’s in one game. He “only” got one strikeout in the 8th, but 18 through 8 still gave him a shot at the record. I remember thinking “please please please leave him in!!” because he had thrown an awful lot of pitches, and the game was only 1-0, or maybe 2-0, and Niehaus and Rizzs had speculated that Lou might go to the bullpen (ugh, was it Bobby Ayala? I don’t even want to think about that). Randy stayed in, and the first batter of the ninth hit a foul fly ball to left field. And Marc Newfield had the nerve to catch it and not let it drop for strike two!! How dare he!!! Randy struck out the second batter of the inning, to get what was then the record for most strikeouts by a left-handed pitcher with 19 (is it still the record?) and then finished the shutout. I remember thinking of it as. I don’t remember all the details of the game, but I remember how Randy via Niehaus made me feel hearing about all of it. It’s the best game I never saw.
Aly Edge - January 8, 2010
I should look things up *before* I post
Because I’m apparently mixing two games in my memory. The Oakland game was actually a loss. Oh well, it was still hella cool.
Aly Edge - January 8, 2010
Amazing write up for an amazing player.
Thank you, Randy Johnson. And thanks for the write up Matthew.
Jackle Mackle - January 8, 2010
!
Aaron Campeau - January 9, 2010
My favorite memory of Randy comes in 1997
When it was my first live game at the Kingdome watching the Mariners play. However in 1997. I was 4-5 years old but I remember Randy he was like a bajillion houses tall and was lighting up the gun and ever since that day I wanted to be a lefty pitcher but dammit I was a righty.
Slurvey - January 9, 2010
Kingdome pitchers mound dirt
I was at the one game play-off in 1995. My dad took me. We were in the 300 level on the 3rd base side. We traded off listening to Dave on a walkman radio. No moment in my sports/mariners loving history was better than the excitement and the (everyone on your feet with two strikes!) loudness of the Kingdome that day.
After the game ended, we stood and watched and cheered as all the fans poured onto the field. We both wanted to take it all in, to just enjoy this incredible spectacle from our vantage point. The cheers continued, but more and more people continued to pour onto the field. Finally, we headed down, and entered near the first base dugout.
We got dirt. From the mound. The mound that Randy pitched from. We grabbed a couple of hunks of dirt and put them in our pockets. To this day, that dirt from the Kingdome mound is by far my most cherished piece of sport memorabilia.
josh_h - January 9, 2010
I tip my hat to Randy.
Wish he had come back to go out with a Seattle hat on. Hope he comes back to coach someday.
Great post Matt.
went9 - January 10, 2010
This was a great read -
both the main story and all of the comments.
Let me add a memory:
One of the perks of having a summer birthday was (and is) that the Mariners are generally playing. When they win, it always feels like an extra special birthday present. When Randy Johnson pitched, it was a good bet that the M’s would win. So there was one year when things worked out to where Randy was on the mound for my birthday. I remember sitting on my bed, listening to the radio and keeping score, sure in the knowledge that the Mariners would be victorious on my day – after all, Randy Johnson was pitching, and it didn’t matter who he was going against. I sat there and filled in my homemade scorecard with the A’s lineup…and then began filling in “k’s” because Randy was mowing them down.
It was the 19 strikeout game. The one where McGwire hit that gigantic home run into the upper deck (I think it was mentioned above in the thread). And even though it was my birthday and Randy struck out 19 A’s, the Mariners lost.
The story doesn’t really have a happy ending, except to say that Randy came back and won many more games for the Mariners. I won’t forget him any time soon. Thanks for the memories, Randy.
AMb1valenT - January 11, 2010
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