My dad took me to my first professional baseball game back in 1980. It was a really big deal because we had to drive close to 300 miles to Seattle. My dad told me that it was not just any game, it was the home opener for the Mariners and I could tell that he was at least as excited as I was. My dad was a Bruce Bochte fan which really didn't mean anything to me, I was just excited to be going to the game.
I remeber getting to the ballpark early and seeing the King Dome. I could not believe that baseball was actually played inside that concrete dome. I was amazed by the crowd and the passion people had for their team. The M's went on to win the game and I became a lifelong fan.
The next several months were filled with over 100 loses and a lot of crying. 33 years later the crying has subsided but the loses are still mounting. There have been some good years but for the most part, being an M's fan has been painful. I love my dad but to this day I question why he made me be a Mariners fan. Why Dad?