by Rich Johnson
WASHINGTON — If you don’t keep up, you lose your teams.
They learned that lesson in Baltimore back in 1983, in Washington in 1971, and in a dozen other big cities over the past four decades. In Seattle in the 90s, it seemed like the Mariners were as good as gone every season. A miracle comeback in 1995 saved baseball in Seattle, and made the construction of Safeco Field possible.
But the much-maligned Kingdome is the home of my best baseball memory. It was an early-season game in 1998 — what turned out to be the last Mariners game I witnesses in the Kingdome. A friend who worked for KIRO, the Mariners’ radio flagship, scored us seats about 10 rows behind home plate. We munched one last time on Kingdogs, washed down with Kingbeer (local brand Rainier, only at twice the cost) as the M’s handled Detroit in front of more than 44,000 fans.
Like most catchers, Dan Wilson didn’t win a lot of running contests. But he was a fan favorite, and the M’s everyday catcher in a lineup that included Randy Johnson, Jamie Moyer, Jay Buhner, Ken Griffey Jr., Edgar Martinez and a 19 year-old starting his first full season in The Show: Alex Rodriguez.
The day before, Wilson had almost hit for the cycle — belting a triple, double and single. Known for occasional power, Wilson had the place buzzing when he came up in the 1st inning with the bases loaded. Everyone was thinking Grand Salami (as the late radio legend Dave Neihaus would label a Grand Slam).
After going 2-2, then fouling off four more pitches, Wilson pounded a pitch into the gap in left-center.
As described the next day in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer: “Luiz Gonzalez nearly made a sensational catch at the wall, but the ball hit the fence and bounced away from both Gonzalez and center fielder Brian Hunter, who was shading Wilson to right-center.”
As Wilson was about to round third, my friend and I looked at each other and realized we were about to see some sort of Major League history — a feat that had never crossed our minds in our collective baseball-watching lifetimes. We, and everyone else, screamed and screamed as Wilson chugged toward home.
We cheered the homer — the inside the park homer. Then we paused, did the math and realized: we just saw an inside-the-park grand slam. Huh? When has that ever happened, especially for a catcher?
As it turns out, just eight other times since 1900, and just three times in the 35 years prior to Wilson’s:
- Ron Karkovice (1990)
- Jim Essian (1979)
- Tim McCarver (1963)
- Wes Westrum (1950)
- Mickey Cochrane (1936)
- Tex Irwin (1911)
- Chief Meyers (1909)
- Red Dooin (1904)
I’ve seen great comebacks by teams I’ve rooted for and against. But that individual moment will always stand out because of my personal history with the building.
From the day it was built, The Kingdome was mocked by the nation as a giant gray, dreary mushroom — a place that was home to the Mariners, Seahawks for nearly three decades before it came down.
But we Northwesterners know that without The Kingdome, there never would have been the Mariners or Seahawks. Or two Final Fours, countless boat, home, RV and garden shows; church conventions, soccer games, Rolling Stones concerts and so much more. The Kingdome closed the deal on making Seattle a true world-class sports town.
It was an amazing bit of luck for me to cap off my time in the place that held so much of my personal sports history by witnessing a feat that’s a rare part of all of baseball’s history.
