Departures

In little more than 24 hrs Seattle lost it's greatest clown and greatest hitter.  Both are sudden reminders of the relentlessness of time.  Both will affect the city for months and years to come.  
J.P. Patches was Seattle to those of us that grew up here, before and after school were spent with the Mayor of the City Dump.  I should say J.P. Patches came to represent Seattle those of us that grew up here, for when we were watching we were to naive, to pure to assign values and titles to him, instead we watched because we enjoyed him.  Only later did we associate him with youth and a time when Seattle was a town of homemade characters, such as,  Ivar, the Smith Tower, the Space Needle and J.P. 
Ichiro on the other hand for me at least arrived later in life, I realized almost from the start that he was something special, in an age of steroids and human growth hormone there he was, a human with super human abilities to hit a baseball.  I remember watching his first game, a late inning sacrifice bunt, that turned into a base hit and the rally that won opening night on the way to winning 116 games.  I knew then that he was special.  He was always special when the M's were good and when they were bad, Ichiro was always Ichiro.  I watched and listened to games because he was playing, it was not unique, his type of baseball.  The game had been played his way before, but since the Great Depression.  The names Ichiro chased were not names recognizable in an age of the home run, but to the true student of the game, the names stirred excitement, Cobb, Wagner, Keeler and Sisler, all Hall of Famers, all lost to badly deteriorated new reel footage and dusty library books.  As my son got old enough to watch the game, I would stop him so he could watch Ichiro and he became his favorite player.  Truth be told, Ichiro isn't the greatest hitter in the game any longer, and his request to be traded and his trade to the Yankees is probably merciful, in a baseball sense.  It is painful though, and it is hard to phantom that Wednesday's ball game could be the last time he plays in Safeco Field.  My son's reaction was to fall back against the wall and ask why as the sadness and disbelief broke through his voice.  Understanding the baseball sense or not, I felt the same way.  Once again baseball proves that it was invited to break your heart.  Tonight's photo is from Spring Training of this year.  Little did I know that this would be the last time I would witness Ichiro play as a Mariner.