I wrote this recollection of the 1995 ALDS between the Mariners and Yankees back in the summer of 2001. I was trying to put the strengthening Mariners-Yankees rivalry in a broader context while also recalling the ALDS and Edgar’s double. I was also hoping we’d see another Seattle-New York series in October, when the two teams would add a new chapter to the rivalry. They did, but the circumstances had changed immensely in the meantime. The piece was originally published in the print edition of MISC., a short time before the September 11 attacks. Here it is:

Six years have passed since October, 1995, and it would seem that nothing so recent qualifies as a legend. But, the Mariners-Yankees playoff series of that month is already a memory of wonderful brilliance. That series was a classic proving ground for the Mariners; it also had a broader, heavily symbolic importance for Seattle and the Puget Sound. Like so many sporting events, it provided a crystallized summary of the status and culture of the two cities represented on the playing field.

Seattle was the upstart: a city roughly as old as Central Park, and a team only 18 years old. At that point, the Mariners had scarcely emerged from the sub-.500 region and its accompanying status as perhaps baseball’s worst team. Seattle’s national and global identity was still largely as the home of Boeing. But, the city had put aside its grunge capital status, well over a year after Kurt Cobain’s suicide. Starbucks and Microsoft were beginning to expand from mere brands into multinational corporate behemoths. And, the local Internet boom had started, with RealNetworks and Amazon just beginning to build names for themselves, and Microsoft initializing its efforts to become a dominant power on the Web.

The Mariners’ late-season run was a rough emblem of that new Seattle: the team that had fumbled through the ’80s shocked its fans by actually coming back to win the division. During that effort, Randy Johnson established himself as a real hero: his amazing pitching delivered the team into a playoff with the Angels, where he then pitched a shutout to clinch the division.

Then, of course, there was New York. Rightly or not, it is seen as the center of America, to such an extent that it sometimes seems as though New Yorkers are proudly ignorant of anything south or west of Philadelphia. As America’s unofficial capital, it was a unique challenge for the Mariners and Seattle. The Yankees were, and are, the sports symbol of New York’s elitism: the team with the biggest personalities, most famous stars-even cultural icons, and above all, the team that won, and was expected to win.

Even after nearly 15 years without making the playoffs, the Yankees were an intrinsic, deeply historic threat to anyone they faced in the postseason. They had dominated baseball throughout the century, just as Manhattan had dominated American capitalism. Their resurgence in the mid-’90s paralleled the surging growth of Wall Street, the great bull market, and the rise of a safer, even richer New York under the Giuliani administration.

But, the Mariners did win, despite all that symbolism. Looking back on that series now, after so many changes, provokes a strange feeling. With Johnson, Griffey, and Rodriguez gone in acrimonious departures, and players like Mike Blowers only fairly distant memories, it’s hard to really recall that team. But, that series still, at least until this season, represents Seattle’s greatest baseball moment. The vague memories of Griffey and Martinez’s heroics throughout the series are crystallized into the last play of game 5. Edgar lined the ball down the left field line, and as it bounded into the corner, Joey Cora (remember him?) scored the tying run from third, then turned to beckon The Kid home. And Griffey did come home, sliding across the plate as the throw came in a bit too late, and jumping up with a look of absolute glee on his face before being immersed in a sea of Mariners.

Now, the Yankees-Mariners matchup has become as sharp a rivalry as can be imagined between two teams 3000 miles apart. The two teams are thoroughly cross-pollinated (Lou Piniella the former Yankee player and manager, Jay Buhner the Yankee outfielder traded early in his career, Jeff Nelson the once-Yankee and twice-Mariner, and Tino Martinez, who moved to New York after that 1995 season), and New York is, today, even more of a colossus. It recovered from its lost opportunity in 1995 to win 4 of 5 World Series, establishing a new Yankee dynasty even as the Mariners were stopped short twice, including last year’s loss to New York. Even in this year’s mid-August visit to Yankee Stadium, when the Mariners’ dominance over baseball was firmly established, the New York press still assumed they were the upstarts needing to prove themselves, while the Yankees were the team expected to win the Series, again. It seemed absolutely fitting for Mike Cameron, Griffey’s replacement, to win the final and deciding game of that series by slugging two home runs and driving in eight runs.

By Arne Christensen

I was seventeen-years-old when the Mariners clinched the division in 1995.  I rarely follow baseball in this day and age but I was an avid fan of our Mariners and baseball in general.  My mother worked for a Fortune 500 accounting company in Seattle so she was given tickets to game five. Center-right of home plate, about 20 rows back.  I don’t remember the entire game but I remember the atmosphere.  Everybody was going crazy.  Regardless of what was happening there was an air of inevitability in the air; absolutely electric.

Then, bottom of the ninth, Edgar Martinez came to bat and drilled a pitch over the left fielder and into the wall.  I believe that RBI drove in Griffey but that doesn’t matter, what matters is the single best moment in my life as a baseball fan.

I remember the second Martinez tattooed that ball, as the ball travelled past the left-side and left field fans, there was this wave following the ball as it drifted over the left fielder.  The Kingdome had to go but I’m telling you that between the Sonics, the Seahawks and the Mariners there was never a louder indoor moment in my experience.  I couldn’t hear for nearly two hours after the game but it didn’t matter.

I got near Martinez before the game while he was waiting to take a few swings at batting practice, literally within 15 feet or so.  I said, matter of factly, “Gonna win the series for us?” and he simply said, “Ok.”  It was awesome cause he had that smile that told me not to keep my hopes up.

I had a stroke nearly seven years ago and I have lost and never recovered almost my entire teen and adolescent memory but I’ll never forget that day and I’ll miss going to the Kingdome and watching how crazy the ball travelled through that air conditioned outfield.

By Aaron Rogers

The other day I popped in one of my favorite videos of all time, “My Oh My.” Recently, the Mariners have been pretty depressing, and every once in a while I need to remind myself that at one time, the M’s were really good. The mid ’90s were the golden years of baseball in Seattle. We had this guy called Ken Griffey Jr. No doubt, Kenny was the best player of the league at the time and of the decade as well. You’re a pretty good player when you’re drawing comparisons to Babe Ruth and Willie Mays.

There was also this guy on the ‘95 team named Randy Johnson. He was the most dominant pitcher in baseball. With his bad ass mustache and his trend setting mullet, he mowed down hitter after hitter, guaranteeing the Seattle bats a chance to win the game.

I could go on and on about all the talent we had on that team; Edgar, Tino, Cora, Buhner, etc. With the best player in baseball (Griffey) and the best pitcher (Johnson), expectations were high for this team. However, 27 games into the season, on May 26th, Ken Griffey Jr. was injured, breaking two bones in his left wrist while making a highlight catch. It wouldn’t be until August 15th that Griffey would return to a team clinging to a 51-50 record and 12.5 games back of the California Angels.

The Playoffs

Many baseball fans consider the ‘95 ALDS the best of all time. Coming from two games down, the Mariners tied the series at 2-2, forcing a decisive game five to be played in the Kingdome. Game five would produce one of the most memorable games in any Mariners’ fans’ heart…

The game was tied, 4-4, going into extra innings. In the top of the 11th, the Yankees drew first blood with a single by Randy Velarde driving in pinch runner Pat Kelly to seize a 5-4 lead. But the Mariners Refused to Lose. Little Joey Cora started things off by drag bunting and safely reaching first base, then Griffey singled and Cora advanced to third base.

With no outs, runners on first and third, Edgar Martinez stepped to the plate. Jack McDowell wound up, and Edgar hit a double into left field, scoring Cora to tie the game. And then Griffey was waved in, all the way from first. The throw was late, and Griffey slid into home late safely. Cementing an ALCS BERTH! In one of the most celebrated images in Mariners history, Griffey was mauled by his teammates at home plate as they were one series away from the world championship! The words of Dave Niehaus echoed, “MY OH MY”!!!

The Mariners would go on to lose in six games to the Cleveland Indians, dropping the last game on their home turf, the Kingdome. Although the magical ride ended, the fans in Seattle finally knew what it was like to have a successful baseball team, and the Mariners were no longer a crappy expansion team but a permanent part of Seattle culture. That double by Edgar is known for how it sent the M’s into the ALCS, but it could also have been the hit that built Safeco Field.

By Kevin Cacabelos, adapted from his posting athttp://www.seatownsports.net

My dad was always a baseball fan, and being that his family is from New England and growing up during Yastrzemski’s glory days, he was a die-hard Red Sox fan. I was born in 1987 (the birth of his child was what finally got my dad out of his ‘86/Buckner depression), and like my dad was a big baseball fan, going through his magazines and watching games with him. Rather than just going along with the Red Sox, at a very young age I settled on the Mariners as my favorite team… for the childish reasons that I liked the colors of their costume and their uniform, liked their team name, and they had a big slugger star I could idolize.

The ‘95 ALDS game 4 and 5 are some of my earliest baseball memories and some of my earliest concrete memories ever. I was 7 (about two weeks away from turning in October 1995. Being on the East Coast, these games at the Kingdome started at 10:05 pm eastern time (on the Yankee’s former cable station, MSG, before Steinbrenner started his own network). I remember it being very late, WAY past my bedtime, but my dad would let me stay up (not because he cared much about the Mariners, but because as a Red Sox fan, he relished any opportunity to see the Yankees lose in the playoffs). I have memories of Randy Johnson blowing away batter after batter, and Edgar Martinez’s grand slam AND series winning double (in my mind, it was all the same game, and it was a series winning grand slam in the 11th).

I recently bought a copy of the game on DVD from a bootlegger and watched it, enjoying the glory years of the Mariners from my childhood (Griffey, Johnson, Edgar, A-Rod, Buhner, Dan Wilson) when I was collecting baseball cards. Watching the 13 year old game brought back a lot of memories, and since I hadn’t seen it in so long, I think from the 8th inning on in that game 5 is probably the most exciting baseball game of all time — with the possible exception of all of the close calls in the Red Sox-Yankees 2004 ALCS. Good memories from my childhood contained in that game.

By Dain Goding

I had been blessed and cursed by having a dad who loved the game of baseball. I was drug to the Kingdome sometimes kicking and screaming my entire childhood. I of course learned to love the games, win or lose I would keep score and root on the boys. Of course that all changed in ‘95, I was in college at the U at the time. My dad had been successful the years before and a season ticket holder since the beginning so we had kick-ass seats. We were right behind third base, row 4. I’d gone to the other two games up until that point. The whole thing was surreal. I remember waking up at like 4 in the morning, not being able to get back to sleep thinking of baseball. I remembered how everything stopped during that incredible run. Nobody seemed to work, the city was totally abuzz, it was magic.

October 8th, 1995 was my 22nd birthday, if you want to see where my seats were, just watch the tape of the end of the game, I’m holding a sign that reads “House of Blues,” my creative attempt of a double play on the Mariner’s colors and how the Yankees were feeling.

What I remember most about that game is after the 10th inning, wanting it to be over, for better or worse. The stress it was causing me was indescribable, and I just wanted it over, it had been a great run and I was ready for it to end… After Griffey rounded third and was pig-piled, I was right in line to see his big-white toothy grin from under the pile. I kid you not, my legs buckled, I knelt on the dirty box-seat metal and wept. That’s it. One of, if not, the most single happy moment of my life. Happy birthday to me.

By Shane Savery