Safeco with the roof up!
Something our dear readers ought to know going into this summer is that both Jeremy and I are Mariners fans. REALLY. No matter what it might seem or sound like. We enjoy going to Safeco; for $7 you can’t really beat it as far as an afternoon’s entertainment is concerned. The thing is, though, that sometimes it seems like the Mariners don’t really want us to be there. They do things like pay good American dollars to Milton Bradley, put in Chris Ray with the game on the line, and make us carry bags of compost all the way home from the stadium. On the other hand, as of this moment, they’re playing .500 baseball. There’s an outside chance that they won’t go on another seven game losing streak, and might even pull into first place in their division. Love-hate doesn’t accurately describe my relationship with the Mariners – even if I’m an import to Seattle, they’re still my team as much as the Giants are. It’s more that they’re the consistently dissapointing younger child who never quite seems to live up to expectations. I still love them, I just sometimes don’t like them very much. When they do something right I cheer like crazy, but most of the time they regress back to playing the kind of baseball that drives knowledgeable fans straight to the drink.
Naturally, when Jeremy asked me to write something about Safeco Field as a way of jump-starting our upcoming tour of the major league ballparks, I was happy to oblige. Safeco is a beautiful mirror for the Mariners organization; it reflects the identity of the franchise and its fans almost perfectly. From the advertisements in Japanese behind home plate to the rabidly puritanical alcohol enforcement crew, from the espresso stand to the wine bar, from one empty section of the bleachers to another empty section of nosebleeders, you know when you walk into Safeco on a Wednesday night that you’re not there to watch the home team honor the game of baseball with their play. You sit down, perhaps ready to enjoy the gin-laden lemonade that you had to fix up in the bathroom stall, and a creeping sense of horror begins to overtake you. You find yourself asking questions, questions with no answers, the kind of questions that once asked can never be un-asked. Why is the grounds crew dancing on the field in between innings? Why are the fans more psyched up for the boat race on the center field display than for the double play ball Felix just got to work himself out of a jam? WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE DOING THE WAVE WHEN THE HOME TEAM’S DOWN BY 10 RUNS? Rest assured, we’ve all been there with you. The thing about Safeco is you have to check all your previous baseball experiences at the door. It’s a horrible and soul destroying place to be if you want to meet real baseball fans. Sure, there might be one every now and then, especially if you sit in the bleachers (for science’s sake, sit in the bleachers). And since you’re in Seattle, they’ll probably be really friendly. But more than likely, you’ll be surrounded by tourists who just want to ogle Ichiro for a bit and then leave after the top of the fourth, by teenage hipsters who are way too cool to have fun shouting at the centerfielder, or just by empty seats.
All that said, Safeco Field is stunningly beautiful. The M’s website pimps it as “one of the premier baseball facilities ever built” – trust me, they aren’t exaggerating. We’ve got some tasty micro brews on tap if you’re in to that sort of thing (you really ought to be). We’ve got garlic fries, Kidd Valley, and a guy you can text your section number to who’ll come sell you beer. We’ve got a deep, deep outfield fence, and the unique advantage of a train stop right behind the stadium that other teams often find distracting. I’d love to see the problems Jer mentioned in his Oakland post fixed – namely, I’d like to be able to drink and shout obscenities at the visiting team and be surrounded by other people who want to drink and yell. But Safeco’s home, and if the best I can get is heckling Langerhans (good riddance), Saunders (nice ass, but learn to hit), and Gutierrez from my spot in the bleachers, I’ll take it!
barbaricyalp 
At some point, you’ll have to explain this ‘enforcement’ stuff in more depth. Are you not allowed to have beer in the stands? This sounds a bit like the SJ Earthquakes, version II, where for the first 3 years that was the case – for some reason they lifted that restriction this year.
No, nothing like that… they sell beer, and you’re definitely allowed to drink it in the stands. However, if you get drunk and someone complains, assholes in ‘Alcohol Enforcement’ shirts show up and kick you out. Also if they even halfway suspect you are drinking something you brought into the stadium you get the boot. They evidently have cameras on every section at all times and enough people watching to spot anything that happens, because if you go sit in the bleachers you’ll see at least three groups of people per game get kicked out for popping a few mini bottles or whatever.
Also you can’t drink before the game outside the stadium and there’s nowhere to tailgate. That’s the worst part. You have to go to a bar or be sneaky about it or they’ll chase you off… literally.
Hum… reading this, the paranoid side of me starts to think that its money motivated, as in: if you can’t tailgate, then you’ll go inside and be forced to buy their overpriced swill… not a very good way to build a fan base.
(reposted to get my account name right, nuke that prior comment please :(…)
People, there is no WAVE in baseball. Another reason to hate The Bums and Garbage Ravine. +1 for creating a “beer section” at stadiums. They should sell tickets for 21 and over sections where you can heckle opposing players, make fun of visiting fans, and let you criticize your own overpaid and underachieving players.
Been in Seattle but never had enough time to catch a game. I can hear the micro-brews calling loudly now, though. Safeco and Coors Field are the only two ballparks west of Tejas that I’ve never yelled obscenities in.