Celebrating the greats

This past weekend was Ichiro Suzuki weekend at the ballpark by Elliott Bay. The newly-inducted Hall of Famer had his jersey number 51 retired in a pregame ceremony on Saturday, which included a fine speech from the man itself, just two weeks after he gave a different speech at the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. He began his remarks by saying, "Who's idea was it to have me give two speeches in English in two weeks?" calling it "one of the toughest challenges of my career." This got the requisite laugh, and Ichiro demonstrated a more than competent command of the language, which he remains somewhat insecure about despite having greater fluency than the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue demonstrates on a daily basis.

It was a nice speech, humble yet acknowledging of his merit in receiving the honor, and pointed in its advice to the current team of Seattle Mariners—seize this moment. "As Edgar [Martínez, Mariner batting coach and fellow Hall of Famer] and Dan [Wilson, the Mariners' manager] know, winning is tough.... The thing about winning is it is always tough and never comes without pressure," he said. "Accept the pressure and figure out how you can perform at your best." The other unexpected thing was the amount of time Ichiro devoted to the man who wore 51 before him, fellow Hall of Famer Randy Johnson. Randy will have his own number retirement next year, and the two of them seem to really enjoy each other. Johnson was among the several Mariner greats and luminaries in attendance and the two of them taking selfies and goofing around afterward was a fun cap on the event before the game began. Ichiro will attend Randy's ceremony as well and will no doubt engage on more clowning around then. (No word on whether or not Rey Quiñones will be invited.)

Yesterday the festivities continued in a way, with giveaway replica Hall of Fame plaques (I didn't get one despite arriving more than an hour early) and video tributes between innings and such, but aside form the Mariner victory—their seventh straight and a capper on a 9-1 homestand—the highlight was the ceremonial first pitch, thrown by Ichiro to Johnson, whose six-foot-ten frame was decked out in catcher Cal Raleigh's chest protector and shin guards, which looked like a grown man wearing the clothes of a six-year-old. Both wore Sunday-variant versions of Mariner jerseys with 51 on the back and posed for more goofy pictures.

I umpired Friday night, missed an opportunity to attend Saturday night, and did attend yesterday afternoon before again umpiring last night. But I watched all three games and enjoyed them all, bookended by umping shifts that were fun and included plenty of appreciation from players. Pretty decent weekend, well timed and needed given the continuing state of the world.

It wasn't worth taking the time to come home after the M's game and then turn around an hour later to go back to Cap Hill to ump, so I spent the intervening time at Elliott Bay Books, where I ran into one of the softball players I've become vaguely acquainted with over the years (and who I would see later in the evening on the field). She recommended to me a sci-fi novel called The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, which I purchased and read the first few chapters of while awaiting the start of my shift. So far so good.