Well, that happened

I wasn't surprised.

The American League Championship Series is over and Your Seattle Mariners did not win it. They are the only Major League Baseball franchise to never win a pennant, and that badge of distinction will continue for yet another year.

When the Toronto Blue Jays took Game Six of the ALCS last night—rather easily, at that—and tied the best-of-seven series at three wins apiece, I pretty much assumed it meant curtains for the season for the Mariners. So when the M's took a slim lead in tonight's Game 7, I wasn't particularly confident. My neighbor Rachel was watching with me at that point and asked how much of a lead would make me comfortable. I said five runs. And I don't know if I was even being honest about that. (I mean, five runs can be coughed up in a hurry. Just ask Heathcliff Slocumb. Or Carlos Silva. Or even George Kirby, tonight's starting pitcher, who got shelled for eight runs his last time out.)

Why? Two things.

One, I've been following the Mariners for 35 years, the vast majority of those as a season ticket holder of one type or another. I've seen things, man. Horrible things. Things that stay with you and cause a particular form of nihilism. Even when the M's took an unexpected two-games-to-none lead in the series, any optimism I had was...let's say tempered. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me 20 times, you don't get any faith.

Two, postseason history. At least, as remembered by me; looking at the record, the overall numbers don't quite bear this out, but certainly in my formative years, any team trailing a best-of-seven LCS or World Series three games to two that then won game six nearly always had the confidence/momentum/drive/vibes/juju to take game seven and crush the hopes of the formerly-leading team's fanbase. It happened to the Orioles in 1979, the first year I was really paying attention. It happened to the Brewers in 1982. To the Blue Jays themselves in 1985. To my Cardinals in 1985 and 1987. To both the Angels and the Red Sox in 1986. The Giants in ’87. The Pirates and the Braves in ’91, and the Cardinals again in ’96. Exceptions during that span were few, just the 1988 Dodgers, ’92 Braves, and ’97 Marlins. That's a series winning percentage of .786 for Game 6 victors. This century, it's not been as stark—just 14 out of 21 times (.667). The pattern held for the Yankees in 2001, the Giants in ’02, the Cubs in ’03, the Astros in ’04, the Yanks again in ’04, Cleveland in ’07, the Rangers in ’11, Cardinals in ’12, Cleveland again in ’16, Yankees again in ’17, Astros in ’19, Braves in ’20, and both the Phillies and Astros in ’23; it was overcome by the 2003 Yankees, ’06 Cardinals, ’08 Rays, ’14 Giants, ’17 Astros (with help), ’18 Dodgers, and 2020 Rays. So, a touch more hope if you only look at recent years, but it's ingrained into me from those 1980s experiences: Lose game 6 and you lose the series.

Tonight's game 7 was brutal in that it was another one that got away, a lead blown in later innings. But I'm trying to be philosophical about it—this is incremental progress. The Mariners made to just one win shy of a pennant. Never done that before. They did it with a team that was vastly improved from the prior few year's version when it came to management, but it was still a flawed bunch. It's tough to win a pennant when you strike out nearly one out of every four trips to the plate and blow too many opportunities for productive outs. The Blue Jays don't have those flaws—their K rate is under 18%, best in the Majors, and they led everyone in on-base percentage too. They were the better team.

Though if the M's had just walked George Springer instead of pitching to him, who knows what might have been.

Alas. World Series starts Friday, Los Angeles at Toronto. I think I'll be rooting for the Canadians.