The following is a fictional take on another take. I am neither Real Fan nor Baseball Guy. Please refer to Matt's fantastic recap for a rational nonfiction response.

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So apparently I'm supposed to enjoy losing now.



That's what they tell me. But you know what? I'm not one of these Baseball Guys that needs a hundred fake stats to tell me if a team is good or not. That's what my eyes are for. And my eyes tell me the Mariners suck, as usual.



They get swept by the GD Angels of Anaheim and I'm supposed to act like this isn't the same old team?



You watch a bad team for like fifteen years. You watch literally dozens of games on TV since they've last been in the playoffs. You always give them a fair shot. You even click away from the NFL Network's live post-draft studio special to check on the score. You watch a game or two from The Pen every single April and even some Mays (plus every Ladies' Night), spending like sixty bucks on beer, and what do you get? More losing. A bunch of losers losing.



Makes me sick.



I've always said there's real fans and there's Baseball Guys. Ask Baseball Guy what he thinks when his team loses, and first you gotta wait for him to get out his calculator, then you gotta try and stay awake while he tells you it's actually fine that your team lost another game because of some spray charts or run diffs or something. No big deal, he'll tell you. Baseball Guy thinks he knows everything.

But the way I see it, there are only two outcomes in sports: winning and losing. Real fans understand. Real fans think, No way, not like this. Real fans get ready to call in to the radio the next day (at least those guys get it). Real fans promise to boycott until something changes. Real fans get mad.



I'm a real fan.



How much are they paying this Aoki guy to get picked off every night? Gets hit by a pitch and the trainers look at him for like ten minutes? I've got a lawn to mow, buddy! And what happened to Mike Zunino? That guy was a real ball player. Got hit by a pitch every night and said thank you. No soap opera. I don't know. I guess I'm just a real fan.



My Uncle Gary was a real fan. He used to pitch to me when I was a kid. We'd go to Cheney Stadium when the Tigers would take batting practice and wait outside the right field wall. Over the course of a whole summer, I'd get a bucketful of balls. We'd walk up to the elementary school playground for batting practice (wooden bat, obviously), and he'd give me a little bit of chew from the can in his pocket, and we'd throw, hit, and talk some ball.



Maybe if Canó would get the bubble gum out of his mouth and put some chew in like a real ball player, he could get down the line faster.



When Jerry Dipoto got hired, the media loved to talk about him being a numbers guy. Really? That's who we're trusting with the keys to the frigging kingdom? Yeah, right. I want a guy in charge who will understand the game like us fans do. I want a guy who gets mad when the team loses. In Spring Training I turned on the TV to see what this team looked like, and I hadn't heard of half of the players—like some damn minor league team. Dae Ho Lee? More like Ho Lee shit that guy doesn't look like an athlete to me. And then they show Jerry Dipoto with a big ol' smile on his face. You know what the score was? 3-2. Losing to the Rockies. If the team's losing and I can't see the steam coming out your ears? Let's just say you're not the guy for the job.



But excuse me. I'm just a fan. I actually care about winning.



How many times has Scott Servais (admitted Packers fan—go figure) gotten thrown out of a game in his entire managerial career? Not even once. Look it up.



Uncle Gary hated losing. He knew what he was talking about. Taught me to throw a curve when I was thirteen, even though my coach told me I was too young. Uncle Gary asked me if I liked losing and you know what I said? I said hell no. Then do something about it, he told me.



Uncle Gary was a real fan and he taught me about real baseball. The kind of baseball where if you don't win, you lose. Period. Did Uncle Gary even once mention the shift? Of course not. The shift would have made him puke. And if he was still around, you think he would tell me not to worry about a couple losses? No way. He'd tell it like it is—losers lose games. That's how it works.



So Felix strikes out nine and the M's get two hits? Big surprise. Same old Mariners. But please, tell me more about wRC+ and wOBA and how you already know how the season's gonna end.



If he was still around, I know Uncle Gary wouldn't put up with Baseball Guy thinking it's chess or rocket science or something. How about hit the damn ball? How's that for analytics? That's something Uncle Gary would say. He was hilarious.



One time in little league, I hit a liner that knocked a kid's teeth out. Boom. He was playing third and just didn't get his glove up. The kid dropped to the dirt and I rounded first and it got all quiet but Uncle Gary was screaming, Go go go go go, and I rounded second and no one even went for the ball and the other team was all crowded around the kid in the dirt and Uncle Gary was like, Go go go, hustle hustle, go go go, so I rounded third and I slid into home even though the catcher wasn't anywhere near the plate. The ump wasn't even watching and when Uncle Gary told him to maybe just do his job, the ump was like, What's your problem and so Uncle Gary said some things.



But the point is the kid didn't even get his glove up. Probably got a trophy at a pizza party later on, too.



He obviously didn't get baseball. And now he's probably some Baseball Guy with a blog, talking about BABIPs and regression. Not talking about wins, that's for sure. Felix didn't get one today, in case you care at all. Typical.



All I'm saying is Russell Wilson taught us that the goal is to go 1-0 every game and the Mariners managed to go 0-1 three games in a row. That's something that makes a real fan straight-up mad. Baseball Guy doesn't even care.



Before he went away, Uncle Gary gave me my dad's old mitt—he never let me use it when we played catch or when he hit me grounders. Said my dad was the best shortstop in Tacoma when he was a kid. Said my dad taught him everything he knew. Looked like he was trying not to cry when he gave me the mitt. Like he really didn't want to give it to me but knew he probably should. His lip shook and he cussed and my mom said, Time's up, Gary. I never really played anymore after that. I don't know.



What I'm saying is Seager is hitting .250 and Nelson Cruz only has seven homers and Felix is frigging 3-3. Same ol' Mariners if you ask me and it's like no one even cares. As usual. And what—you wanna show me some graphs? Charts? Give me a break.



Baseball Guy does homework. Fans get mad.



Get mad. Get wins. Win mad. Mad wins. Win forever.



goms.

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Christian Powers tweets as @kingdometurf