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Stuff and Shenanigans: Beat up, thrown out, not down

Trust us, despite the lead photo this one’s not really about baseball. Kind of.

Wild Card Series - Seattle Mariners v Toronto Blue Jays - Game Two Photo by Mark Blinch/Getty Images

No intros.

A 72% Sober and 100% Accurate Rundown of Absolutely Everything

I’m going to be honest here. What’s going to happen, is that I’m going to say words that are mmmmmmmmmmmostly unrelated to Washington Football, and you are just going to take it. Right in the eyeballs. Just like that. Because what else better do you have to do? Work? On a Wednesday? That’s what the man wants!

First off: Ya know how last week I was like “blah blah blah existential philosophy #goms #bigdumper #thisisunfamiliarterritory #yesIknowthisisaWashingtonblog #butyaknowwhat #IcandowhatIwant”? And then how you all received that moderately off-topic S&S entry with an enthusiasm that can only be expressed by the whopping zero comments it received? Hell yeah baby, we’re doing it again.

Ya know why? Because once again I had the Washington Huskies off to the side because once again the tradeoff was something that until proven otherwise is a once-in-a-lifetime stuff (and shenanigan). And since I can’t see the Talking Heads in concert, you gotta get that somewhere. Sorry Tempe, you’ll have to wait.

From what I did see of le Huskies, I didn’t gather too much we didn’t already know. Depleted secondary being more-or-less ass? Yeah, you don’t need me to tell you that. To be quite honest, I feel like me writing any takeaways from this — especially after last week’s UCLA poo stain — would be, more than anything, an insult. After all, isn’t the implication when someone hits “publish” on some words, that they’re providing unique or at least specialized insight into the world that their readers otherwise wouldn’t have? If I’m saying something you already know... I mean... that’s a waste of all our times.

Hence why I don’t feel particularly obliged to write about Xs and/or Os today, other than the fact that it would be hilarious if this whole staff was hired to clean up Jimmy Lake’s mess and then to clean up their own one lil’ wee mess hired Lake back to his original job coaching defensive backs. That’s some Ted Lasso-ass* plotline that frankly would rule if just for the ridiculousness factor.

*Ted Asso!

Okay wait but actually... That’s not my worst idea, right? I mean, joking, obviously, because the dynamic of bringing Jimmy Lake back in any capacity would be awkward as crud and presumably be horrifically disruptive... Unless? Ha ha ha no of course not... right?

Anyhoo, turns out the desert is still cursed. Moving on.

Because you had two options: Watch history that you’d been waiting for since you were seven on one hand, and on the other: Watch something that would either be a boring win because the other team more-or-less blows chunks or be [insert exactly what it was] because the state of Arizona is full of dark magic.

On a normal Saturday I would of course semi-willingly watch said dark magic unfold, but last weekend you could have given me the option to be smothered to death by two tons of kittens and I’d still choose the Mariners.

It’s not just that it had been 21 years, it’s that it had been 21 years of clinging onto the, like, two blips of ultra-concentrated joy they had given us before said 21 years of a drought stupider than an Arizona saturday. And then 21 years of mostly misguided dinking around while we once more clung to the moments in space-time that two tragic generational figures gave us. And Adrian Beltre, who should probably wear a cup.

If you’re someone who cries on command when hearing Dave Niehaus’ call of The Double — and any self-respecting Seattleite does, I don’t care if you think baseball is boring you prideless heretic — how on God’s green Cascadian Earth could you have chosen anything else? Sorry Huskies. Except, really, not even a little bit.

In the words of Jon Bois, the Seattle Mariners are not competitors. They are protagonists.

Luckily-ish — in a weird silver lining of college football’s continuing corporate bastardization — the ongoing and escalating tragedy reminds me of the previous 21 years that made this Saturday matter. And what are the 130+ years of pride and history that have preceded this, if not what we’ll cling to in the meantime?

Motherf*cker my third word was “Edgar” — you think I can’t wait this out? I’ve done it before. I’ll goddamn do it again.

The dark ages are coming, if they’re not already here. This isn’t a Washington thing. This is an everyone thing. Even the “haves,” save a few. (And as far as I can tell, even with two losses in a row, Kalen DeBoer is a pretty dang good guy to have at the helm no matter the epoch.)

But yeah, that’s pretty dang depressing.

Realistically, leverage, money, and power will continue to be concentrated even more than now. Bama, Ohio State, um... a few others, I guess? Even more (of those who can afford it) spending a metric shitload of millions of dollars to hire a coach and then immediately regretting it.

Even if Washington were to go to the B1G with Oregon if that “opportunity” presents itself, that offer is essentially “What if I told you you could get a fukload more money to do exactly what you’re already doing, but as an added bonus you also get to lose every regional connection that made people give a shit in the first place?”

But hey, we just lived through 21 years of depressing. Without it, we wouldn’t have gotten Saturday.

What’s another 21?

So I guess what I’m saying is that, given the state of *gestures vaguely at college sports and/or America*, the future is headed such a way that the next time Washington is in a position like that, they’ll be the history I’d choose over being smothered by kittens.

And when that comes, who will be their JP, Adam, and George?

I look forward to finding out.

Lines of the Week

All of us when the boys have to go to Tempe. Every. Damn. Time:

The secondary:

More representation of the secondary:

Do good things, don’t do bad things, and bow down to Washington.