BOOKS

1. “Mercury Pictures Presents” by Anthony Marra

Sometimes there is nothing better than a sprawling book that captivates you from the first page, immerses you in another world, and takes you along for a wonderfully entertaining, heartbreaking, beautiful journey. In “Mercury”, we follow Maria Lagana, an Italian immigrant and associate producer of Mercury Pictures, while she grapples with her role in the arrest of her father back home and the crooked male-led power dynamics at Mercury. This novel felt like a blend of Anthony Doerr’s, “All the Light We Cannot See” and Howard Hawks “His Girl Friday”. I felt completely transported to Mussolini’s Italy and 1940s Hollywood while Marra navigates the politics of both duplicitous environments, introduces such wonderfully complex characters and keeps us invested in the constant twists and turns of scheming studio heads and fascist governments.

2. “Heart the Lover” by Lily King

Being in love is painful. And exhilarating. And it sucks. But it’s kind of amazing. “Heart the Lover” is about a young woman caught in a love triangle during her college years. Her first relationship is defined by a denial of passion; the second, by liberation. Unfortunately, neither of the relationships continue romantically, but 20 plus years later, married and with two kids, the protagonist Casey reflects on what might have been as one of her college boyfriends becomes terminally ill.

Incredibly readable (I read it in two days) and relatable (captures young love and regret very effectively), it was nice to delve into a genre I don’t normally read.

MOVIES

1. “The Drama” (dir. Kristoffer Borgli, 2026)

How well do you know the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with?

I already knew the twist going into my viewing of “The Drama”, which has been making waves since its recent release. I must confess, sometimes it’s nice to know what’s coming. It reminds me of my Grandma Ann, who also never wanted to be surprised.

How was the movie? Mostly good. Funnier than I thought it would be. It’s probably my favorite Zendaya performance. Ultimately, I left the film feeling similarly to how I have felt after other A24 movies; challenged and engaged by/with the interesting ideas, taken by the performances, and frustrated with the last act when they take a huge dive into the absurd. (See “Love Lies Bleeding” if you want a semi-recent example). It feels like such an annoying and unnecessary erasure of so much good world-building. Completely self-inflicted.

I think it’s worth visiting in the same way that “The Materialists” was last year. I don’t necessarily think that movie was great either—it felt incomplete, but it did make me reflect on the modern dating world and what qualities (or requirements) go into finding a partner these days.

The twist of “The Drama” (*no spoilers, I promise*) reveals itself as two couples go around the table and share the worst thing they’ve ever done in their life. Zendaya’s character, Emma, the last person of the four, shares something that sends the rest of the conversation (and the movie) into a spiral. The catch? While the revelation is grave, Emma didn’t actually go through with it. Yet, even the thought of doing it was bad enough.

It made me wonder, though. What would our lives look like if everyone around us knew each other’s deepest, darkest secrets? What if we were walking around and hovering above our heads was a title or caption that said things like “Ponzi schemer” or “abuser” or “murderer”? Would our surroundings devolve into chaos? Would people start to seek retribution against anyone and everyone? Would marriages divorce and friendships end? It’s a curious scenario to envision.

The real sour grape was the trailers. If “The Drama” was the only movie you had seen this year, you might think that there were only 10 actors in Hollywood. “The Drama” stars Robert Pattinson and Zendaya. The first trailer was for “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” starring Tom Holland, Zendaya, and Jon Bernthal. The second trailer was for “The Odyssey” starring basically everyone, but also Zendaya, Robert Pattinson, Tom Holland, and Jon Bernthal. The third trailer was for “Dune 3” starring Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, and Robert Pattinson. I think there were a couple more trailers (of course there were, it was an AMC theater), but you get my point. Probably a classic moment of “don’t hate the player, hate the game”, but it’s a bit disappointing.

2. “Fat City” (dir. John Huston, 1972)

A brutal, heavy film starring Stacy Keach, Tully, as the boxer past his prime and Jeff Bridges as the up-and-comer, Ernie, with a promising future. Wonderful performances by the ensemble (which include Susan Tyrell and Candy Clark) buoy this movie’s depressing subject matter. Tully is a drunk, floating through the days working along migrant workers picking fruits and vegetables. Ernie bounces around winning some and losing some and messing around with a girl Faye, who he gets pregnant. The saving grace is that Huston’s film never feels too judgy. These are flawed characters, but they carry on and, at one point, experience moments of triumph. Plenty of beautiful scenes to choose from.

3. “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” (dir. Philip Kaufman, 1978)

I don’t typically like horror movies that much, but recently I’ve really gravitated to the 1970s classics like “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”, “The Wicker Man”, “Halloween” and “Night of the Living Dead” (1968). Unlike a lot of the scary movies released in this day-and-age, those older movies are more effective and better-made. “Invasion” was a long holdover and I’m glad I finally took it off the list. San Francisco seems like the perfect backdrop for an alien-duplicate invasion—in this film their distinct trait is to show no emotion. Watching the emotionless multiply and start to take the city over reminded me of a couple of modern-day cults that seem to be taking over American politics these days. Some type of hybrid of the elephant, the cross, and the red hat, if you catch my drift. Donald Sutherland is great. Leonard Nimoy is spooky. Available on Tubi for your viewing pleasure.

4. “Remains of the Day” (dir. James Ivory, 1993)

Is the tandem of Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins one of the best duos to grace the silver screen? Is this Anthony Hopkins’ best performance? Has anyone ever portrayed repression better? I’m always a little surprised at how much I end up liking James Ivory films. I don’t think of myself as having a huge affinity for period dramas, but time and time again I leave these movies with a profound respect for how expertly they are crafted. Hopkins plays Stevens, a loyal butler, in complete service to his master, the Earl of Darlington. In so doing, he ignores his father’s declining health, leaves behind a potential romantic partner, and looks past troubling affiliations between his master and their fascist European neighbors.

Four things: Emma Thompson’s performance. Anthony Hopkins’ performance. Christopher Reeve doing great work. The final shot.

5. “Toni Erdmann” (dir. Maren Ade, 2016)

Sandra Huller’s coming-out party to American audiences might have been in 2023 when she was featured in “Anatomy of a Fall” and “Zone of Interest”, but the real ones had discovered her in seven years earlier in “Toni Erdmann.” The premise seems simple enough: a father hopes to reconnect with his workaholic daughter. However, if you had seen Maren Ade’s other film “The Forest for the Trees”, then you’d know that you were in for a cringe-fest beyond your wildest dreams. After an impromptu visit to Bucharest to surprise his daughter, Winfried (taking on the alias of “Toni Erdmann”) decides to stick around. What follows is a hilariously painful series of attempts by a father to get his daughter back—chock-full of dress-up, whoopee cushions, false teeth and naked parties.

Programming your May on Kanopy

Kanopy is my favorite streaming service and is available to the public if you have a library card. Their selection is vast and there is something for everybody. They have a limit to the amount you can watch / stream, so you have to choose wisely. Each month you get 15 credits and the movies they offer range from about 2-4 credits, coming out to about 3-7 movies, roughly. For 14 credits, here are some films on my radar that are available on their platform (from the 1960s to the 2020s):

• “I Am Cuba” (dir. Mikail Kalatozov, 1964, 2 credits) - Four vignettes on the lives of pre-revolutionary era Cuban people.

• “The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie” (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1972, 2 credits) - An upper-class sextet sits down to dinner but never eats, their attempts continually thwarted by a vaudevillian mixture of events both actual and imagined.

• “A Better Tomorrow” (dir. John Woo, 1986, 2 credits) - A reforming ex-gangster tries to reconcile with his estranged policeman brother, but the ties to his former gang are difficult to break.

• “Clearcut” (dir. Ryszard Bugajski, 1991, 2 credits) - A white lawyer finds his values shaken when he is paired with an angry Indigenous activist who insists on kidnapping the head of a logging company to teach him the price of his destruction.

• “Vera Drake” (dir. Mike Leigh, 2004, 2 credits) - Abortionist Vera Drake finds her beliefs and practices clash with the mores of 1950s Britain – a conflict that leads to tragedy for her family.

• Like Father, Like Son (dir. Hirokazu Koreeda, 2012, 2 credits) - In this touching, heartwarming film, two very different families collide when the parents learn their six-year-old sons were switched at birth.

• “Past Lives (dir. Celine Song, 2023, 2 credits) - After decades apart, childhood friends Nora and Hae Sung are reunited in New York for one fateful weekend as they confront notions of destiny, love, and the choices that make a life.

THE MARINERS

Here we are, a month into the season, and the Mariners are a bit of a question mark. “It’s a long season, it’s a long season, it’s a long season”, I try to remind myself hoping after the third repeat I can summon some offensive consistency as if it were Beetlejuice. I’m not sure I went into the year thinking that pitching could be an issue, but it hasn’t exactly been up to par. I must not over-react. Bryan Woo has been shelled the past two outings. Luis Castillo hasn’t been very sharp. The silver lining is that Emerson Hancock has been our best pitcher and Bryce Miller should be returning from rehab. The middle of the line-up is waking up (Raleigh is still a behind schedule, but Julio-Naylor-Arozarena are solid) and Cole Young continues to show flashes of a budding superstar.

Luckily, the American League is collectively hovering around .500. Outside of the Yankees, Rays, and Athletics no other team has a winning record and the Athletics are two games above. Nobody should depend on being average to win their division, but I get the sense that the Mariners just need to be solid. I predicted 93 wins at the beginning of the season. I’m not sure I can see that happening, but I don’t think they would need that to take the AL West. Hopefully their staff can get healthy, their lineup can get a rhythm, and the Seattle summer can take care of the rest.

Happiness: Emerson Hancock and the recent series win against the Braves
Dread: Having been swept 3 times in the first 36 games, Munoz

…MORE SPORTS

Anyone else excited about the World Cup? Who is going to win this year? Will the USMNT get out of the group stages?

Who will win the NBA Finals? Anyone else want a 2005 rematch between the Spurs and the Pistons? Anyone else dreading an NBA finals appearance from the Knicks or the Thunder? Anyone else praying that it’s not one versus the other? Before you call me a hater, let me explain. I don’t care that the Thunder won last year. That doesn’t make me suddenly forgive everything and forget that that team used to be the Sonics. F the Thunder, forever. But the Knicks? Outside of my New York friends and family who, for some very strange nonsensical reason, happen to be Knicks fans I cannot stand the Knicks fanbase. Obnoxious doesn’t even begin to describe them. Last year, I said that if the Thunder faced the Knicks in the finals, I would reluctantly hope the Thunder win. Yeah…that’s how I really feel.

THE MARATHON…

…continues. My sister and I are heading into the home stretch of our training blocks for the San Diego Marathon on the 31st of this month. I am extremely hyped for her to complete her second full marathon and run a great race. I don’t think either of us are particularly fond of the 6:15 AM start time, but it is what it is. Should be a great course and another opportunity to do something special.

Umm…there’s something kind of wild happening in the marathon world. For starters, there was not one, but two men that finished under two hours at the recent London Marathon. I’m sorry, what!? I’m sure people knew this day was coming after Eliud Kipchoge unofficially broke it in 2019 and Kelvin Kiptum almost officially broke it in in Chicago a few years back with a time of 2:00:35. (Kiptum tragically passed away the next year in an automobile accident). The two guys that broke two hours this year were Sabastian Sawe and Yomif Kejelcha (in his debut!) with times of 1:59:30 and 1:59:41, respectively. Sawe’s time breaks down to a 4:33 mile. This is as gross as it is unfathomable. If you like looking at this type of stuff, you can find more stats here.

Tons more people are deserving of shoutouts.

• Tigst Assefa set the London record (beating her own mark) with a rime of 2:15:41.

• Vinny Mauri, in his marathon debut, ran a 2:05:54, good for the fourth best American time…ever.

• John Korir shattered the Boston Marathon record, posting a 2:01:52.

• Almost 5,900 runners finished the Boston Marathon, a grueling course, in under 3 hours.

What does this mean? People are getting faster! It also means that those uber-popular races, particularly the world-majors, are going to be even tougher than before. Boston’s “buffer” has hovered around 4:30 recently. I’m assuming it’ll become much higher to keep the number of participants manageable. The NYC Marathon last year had 250,000 applicants in the lottery. Less than 1% got in.

I have to remind myself not to get lost in the rat-race of it all. Long-distance running popularity has continued to grow over the years and for good reason! For me and so many others, it’s been so beneficial physically and mentally. And we don’t just see the impact on the biggest marathons, but those middle-level ones too, which in the past you could count on for less hullabaloo and pandemonium. The San Diego and Twin Cities marathons, for example, have around 30,000 participants. Those days are numbered.

Hopefully, the marathon experience continues to grow and more people decide to challenge themselves to run one. It may not be the thing for everyone, but maybe it’s the thing for you. If you decide to take it on and I’m in your city, just let me know and I’ll meet you on the track or on the street or wherever and we can get these miles in together!

Happy Running!

I’m on a texting thread that is dedicated to Seattle Sports, namely the Seattle Mariners and Seattle Seahawks. Truthfully, I’m a bit of a fraud when it comes to my Seahawks commentary, but I do take my Mariner contributions seriously. Post-COVID, which is when I remember this texting thread starting, this forum of shit-talking, wise-cracking, clowning, and airing-out frustrations has provided innumerable wonderful moments and plenty of hilarity over the past however many years.

Going into the 2026 season, riding high (kind of) after the deepest playoff run in Mariners history, I thought it might be fun for a group activity that would activate us and give us some momentum. With the Seahawks recent Super Bowl win, I think there was a bit of a depression, in the literal sense, a valley of depleted energy after the unbelievable peak watching the Seahawks exact their revenge against the Patriots and receive the parade they had deserved ten years earlier.

The thread had been a bit dormant and I thought of something that my friend Danny and I do every once in a while to fill the air. Whether it’s a game of catch, a teriyaki outing, or just another text exchange, Danny and I will sometimes start naming baseball players from the 90s. We are not alone in this. This has gotta be a top activity under the “dudes just being dudes” section of conversation. It’s not uncommon to start a phone call with:

“Tony Grafanino”
“Delino DeShields”
“Jose Paniagua”
“Ryan Klesko”
“Benito Santiago”

The unspoken agreement was the more syllables the better. They just don’t name ‘em like that anymore.

THE CRITERIA

Anyway, I figured the best way to translate that specific past-time to the thread was to have all of us (seven in total) draft an entire Mariners roster.

Here was the criteria:

-Each person creates a batting line-up, consisting of 8 position players and a DH
-Each person selects a starting pitcher (SP), relief pitcher (RP), closer (CL), and a utility player (including the lineup, 13 players in total)
-For the very last pick, each person selects a manager.
-Once a player is picked they are no longer available
-The player needs to have played at least one game with the Mariners
-Selections are based on Mariners career, not entire career (i.e. Rickey Henderson, Chone Figgins, Erik Bedard, etc.)

I went online and inputted our seven names to create a random draft order. After spinning seven times, it yielded:

Danny - Ted - Tyrone - Carson - Erick - Enzo - Josh

And since it was a snake draft, the order would flip after the first round of selections.

There seemed to be a decent response to the idea, but I think there was a suspicion as to whether or not it would even work. This text thread could be very active sometimes, but very quiet to start the season. Some of us were curious if it would even make it through the first round.

THE DRAFT

The first pick was (drumroll…)

Ichiro Suzuki.

Maybe a surprise to some, but completely on-brand considering that’s always been Danny’s favorite Mariner and Ichiro and all of those singles could do no wrong in his eyes.

The second pick…

Ken Griffey, Jr.

No surprise there. I’m sure Ted was surprised that the greatest Mariner of all time fell to number 2.

This is how the first round turned out:

1 - Ichiro Suzuki (Danny)
2 - Ken Griffey, Jr. (Ted)
3 - Jay Buhner (Tyrone)
4 - Edgar Martinez (Carson)
5 - Alex Rodriguez (Erick)
6 - Julio Rodriguez (Enzo)
7 - Felix Hernandez (Josh)

I’m not sure what national critics, baseball pundits, or die-hard Mariner fans might have picked, but I think, all things considered, this was probably pretty standard, as far as the first seven Mariners to be selected would project. Once the picks started to get going, the anticipation for the next player felt palpable, even for a text thread. Granted, it wasn’t like we were sending voice notes of our reactions—instead the range consisted of a “!”, “(heart)”, “(fire)”, “haha” or a more scripted “Ohhhhhh shit!” or “Damnnnnn.” Occasionally, a GIF would make an appearance.

When you’re doing a snake draft, it can feel like an eternity before you get to your second player, especially when there’s seven people choosing. With my favorite player selected so early, I figured I’d take one of the two best pitchers and, while I did want to take Randy Johnson for the 90s of it all, Felix felt like the right choice. He spent his whole career with the Ms and, though he only received one Cy Young award (was robbed of at least one, if not a couple more), his dominance was noteworthy. I think it’s easy to look at his stats and get lost in the low number of wins over a 15 year career, but one would only need to look up some advanced stats to see that he consistently received some of the worst run support. We all lived through it. It was embarrassing. I don’t know the psyche of a professional pitcher, but it’s gotta be a different type of pressure to know that you probably won’t win if you allow more than 3 runs.

With my second pick, I chose Cal Raleigh. Something about choosing Felix with the first pick had me thinking of selecting a catcher next. I’m sure I was a bit drunk with recency bias, but could you blame me? Cal’s 2025 campaign was one of the most seasons to follow in a long, long time. 60 Home Runs. An MVP caliber season. Great defensively. Why not pair the best pitcher (debatable) with the best catcher?

The second round proceeded as follows:

8 - Cal Raleigh (Josh)
9 - Randy Johnson (Enzo)
10 - Bret Boone (Erick)
11 - Robinson Cano (Carson)
12 - Jamie Moyer (Tyrone)
13 - Nelson Cruz (Ted)
14 - John Olerud (Danny)

A lot of wonderful names and memories in this round. Erick staking the claim to the best Mariner middle infield with A-Rod and Boone, though maybe “juicing the claim” or “staking the needle” would be more appropriate. At the time I’m writing this Randy Johnson weekend is on the horizon. He’ll become the fourth member of the Mariners to get his number retired and second #51 (Ichiro was the first). Is Jamie Moyer still pitching in the big leagues at 63 years old? I remember my Dad and I laughing listening to 710 AM radio and hearing play-by-play of his 82 MPH fastball leading to a swing-and-miss. Just another reminder that location is everything. Nelson Cruz will always be one of those Mariners that I wish could have stuck around forever. One of the rare free-agent signings that actually worked! Just look at his stats. Growing up, the debate was that John Olerud and Edgar might tie in a “slow-off” around the bases, but I’ll be damned if that dude couldn’t play a great first base and was as solid and professional a hitter as they come. (Funny stat of the day—in career triples, Edgar leads Olerud 15-13).

Third round:

15 - Adrian Beltre (Danny)
16 - Bryan Woo (Ted)
17 - Mike Cameron (Tyrone)
18 - Hisashi Iwakuma (Carson)
19 - Kyle Seager (Erick)
20 - JP Crawford (Enzo)
21 - Raul Ibanez (Josh)

I think that the third round, fourteen players in, started to loosen up the draft a bit more and began to test our strategies and desires to either keep it contemporary or dip into the nostalgia bag. While Beltre never found the offensive production of his breakout-season for the Dodgers (or consistency in Texas) in Seattle, he was always a rock at third and was a great entertainment, especially when Felix was on the mound. Anyone else remember how hard he would throw it to Felix on the mound after a put-out?

Cameron was a great-pull—responsible for so many incredible moments. My Dad and I were at the game where he robbed Derek Jeter of a home-run a mere week into the 2000 season—the bad taste of Griffey’s departure still in the air. Nobody captured the sentiment better than our beloved Dave Niehaus, who during the play said, “I HATE to SAY it, but it was a GRIFFEY-ESQUE catch!” My dad and I were in attendance for Cameron’s 8 RBI game in the old Yankee Stadium. Nothing is better than watching Yankee fans suffer (and Knicks fans too, while I’m at it). I also remember vividly listening to the radio when Cameron hit four home-runs at Comiskey Park against the White Sox. Four solo home runs. A lot of people don’t remember that he almost hit a fifth with a drive to the warning track. The funniest part might have been Boone afterwards in the post-game interview. Boone and Cameron went back-to-back twice in that game…in the same inning! Boone, however, had a runner on each time, clearing the bases before Cameron came up to the plate. During the interview he said (and I paraphrase), “It took him four times. It only took me twice (to get 4 RBIs).”

Erick solidifying the best Mariner infield with Seager, though Carson did crack us all up after Erick’s selection saying, “Erick, I hate your team.” Can’t argue with the talent and production though. I was elated to take Ibanez with my third pick though I’m sure others might have felt he was selected too early. I didn’t care. A three-time Mariner, one of the nicest guys, and an all-around solid player. Who doesn’t love Rauuuuuuuul!?

Fourth round:

22 - Josh Naylor (Josh)
23 - Dan Wilson (Enzo)
24 - Alvin Davis (Erick)
25 - Randy Arozarena (Carson)
26 - Ken Phelps (Tyrone)
27 - Eugenio Suarez (Ted)
28 - Kazuhiro Sasaki (Danny)

I know, I know—again with the recency bias, but Naylor is Naylz! I can’t remember someone showing up mid-way through a season and making the type of impact that Naylor made last year. A winner, through and through. A culture changer, someone that brings it every day and wears his emotions on his sleeve. Danny and I get a kick out of his walk-up song, which is “Stan” by Eminem and Dido, which may or may not be the most emo walk-up song in the majors. The biggest guy on our team who steals the most bases? The fact that he kinda looks like Ted. His shoe game. The list goes on and on. Naylor was instantly beloved and I was proud to take him as my first baseman.

Erick’s pick was significant because it marked the first player selected pre-1990s. All of us were born in 1991 and 1992 (except for Ted) and, while we fancy ourselves die-hards, I’m not sure we could have told you exactly when Alvin Davis played nor how good he was. I think that was a product of associating the 80s as a losing decade (never finished with a winning record) and not being alive to witness the misery.

Ken Phelps two picks later by Tyrone might have been the pull of the draft considering none of us knew who he was and the fact that he attended Ingraham High School, where Erick, Ted, Tyrone, and I went to high school.

Geno going to his Venezuelan brother-in arms, Ted, was only right and Danny drafting Kazu was fitting. I wish I could have sent him Kazu’s signature bow.

Fifth round:

29 - Freddy Garcia (Danny)
30 - Matt Brash (Ted)
31 - Richie Sexson (Tyrone)
32 - Kyle Lewis (Carson)
33 - Franklin Gutierrez (Erick)
34 - Teoscar Hernandez (Enzo)
35 - Joey Cora (Josh)

Danny taking Freddy was a reminder that Freddy was one of the Mariner GOATS. Easily one of my favorite pitchers to imitate growing up and a huge piece of those great 2000 and 2001 teams. Does Brash have the nastiest pitch in Mariners history with that slider / sweeper or whatever you call it? Were we too hard on Richie Sexson during the time of Richie Sexson? I think so. Kyle Lewis. What a “what if”! Teoscar was solid in his one season, but his departure and his subsequent comments about the sight-lines from home plate made me like him a little less. I was elated to get Joey Cora, one of those mid 90’s staples, who was immortalized during the ‘95 season. I loved all of the pins he used to wear on his hat. As dependable a lead-off hitter as they come.

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Sixth round:

36 - Jean Segura (Josh)
37 - Edwin Diaz (Enzo)
38 - Andres Munoz (Erick)
39 - Jeff Nelson (Carson)
40 - Mike Blowers (Tyrone)
41 - Jorge Polanco (Ted)
42 - Mark McClemore (Danny)

As we approached the half-way mark, we started to see some deep cuts, short-term rentals, and sentimental favorites. Was there a more iconic utility player than Mark McClemore? Is Edwin Diaz’ 2018 season the best by a closer? It really makes you wonder what could have happened that year. We missed the second wild-card by one game and this was with Cano missing half the year because of a steroid suspension. What could have been. Jean Segura was solid in his two years with the Ms and was another solid piece on the 2018 team. Polanco’s 2025 season (especially his playoff performance) will be remembered for a long, long time. Mike Blowers, a ‘95 hero. And Jeff Nelson, one of the nastiest relief pitchers from two of the best Mariner teams, 1995 and 2001.

Seventh round:

43 - Carlos Guillen (Danny)
44 - Mike Zunino (Ted)
45 - Kenji Johjima (Tyrone)
46 - Mitch Haniger (Carson)
47 - Randy Winn (Erick)
48 - Dee Gordon (Enzo)
49 - JJ Putz (Josh)

This almost felt like a placeholder round. Maybe we were a little fatigued knowing we still had half the draft to go. Carlos Guillen will always be one of my favorites, for a few reasons. For one, he was always willing to sign a baseball and he had one of the coolest signatures. Additionally, he had the game-winning bunt to send us to a first round sweep against the White Sox in 2000, my favorite Mariner playoff team. Danny and I always joke about which jersey we’d try to get first between, Guillen, Garcia, and Ibanez. Hopefully there’s a way we can come up with all three. Johjima’s selection led me to look up more of his stats. I had totally forgotten that he played all four of his major league seasons for the Mariners. For some reason I thought he was around for longer. I wonder why he stopped. Let me tell you something—2018 and 2021 Mitch Haniger was a DOGG! He’ll always go down as a special Mariner, even if injuries derailed what could have been a promising carer. I know JJ Putz was better than just his 2006 game-ending strikeout of Barry Bonds, but that (and his name) will always be what I remember most. Randy Winn, of course, came to the Mariners in the trade for Lou Piniella. I remember reading Sweet Lou’s hilarious response to the trade in the Seattle Times after the trade was completed. “In 10 years in Seattle, the Mariners never got a left fielder for me,” said Piniella, smiling, shortly after the deal was announced. “Now they get a left fielder for me.”

Eighth round:

50 - Jose Guillen (Josh)
51 - Jim Presley (Enzo)
52 - Tino Martinez (Erick)
53 - Dylan Moore (Carson)
54 - Cole Young (Tyrone)
55 - Justin Smoak (Ted)
56 - Arthur Rhodes (Danny)

Here’s where it started to get interesting. Since our favorite guys were well off the board at this point, I think Enzo (and the rest of us) started to go into the record books. For the second half of the draft it became more about who could fill the position and who were the best players to have played that position. I remember at this point of the draft feeling like I was really testing my Mariner knowledge and was running out of options. The internet was going to need help us out. Jim Presley, like Ken Phelps, was another player from the lowly 80s teams that had a serviceable career. I can almost guarantee that none of us knew who Presley was before he was selected. Tino was a great pull by Erick, although I was a little pissed to remember that he left us after his great ‘95 season to go to the Yankees…and won a championship the next year. What an a-hole! Who likes winning championships!? Not us! D-Mo was basically McClemore 2.0, Justin Smoak was a huge source of Mariners misery, and two great pulls by Tyrone, who sensed a future staple second-baseman and Danny, who chose the swaggiest Mariner reliever in Rhodes. Rhodes is responsible for one of my favorite and least-favorite Mariner memories. His diamond earring was so damn shiny that Omar Vizquel saw it fit to throw a tantrum. On the other side, he gave up that home-run to David Justice in the 2000 playoffs which, before the Springer home-run, was probably the play that gave me the most Mariner nightmares.

Ninth round:

57 - Harold Reynolds (Danny)
58 - Ketel Marte (Ted)
59 - Ken Griffey, Sr. (Tyrone)
60 - Ty France (Carson)
61 - Shigetoshi Hasegawa (Erick)
62 - Dae-ho Lee (Enzo)
63 - Norm Charlton (Josh)

Harold Reynolds, maybe a bit too late in the draft, another 80’s staple, and two-time Mariners all star. Ketel Marte, a classic example of a player that the Mariners trade only to watch them blossom elsewhere (3-time All-Star for the Diamondbacks). Griffey, Sr.! Shigetoshi Hasegawa, who might have the best name to ever dawn a Mariners uniform. Dae-ho Lee! Who was Dae-ho Lee? I legitimately wondered if this was a real player and he was. 2016! He batted .253! He hit 14 home-runs! He never played again. 2016! What a year in the world? Was there another event in 2016 that made me forget that anything else happened, ever?

Norm Charlton. The Sheriff! I kinda love that he and Jeff Nelson were both on 1995 and 2001. Pure vibes!

Tenth round:

64 - Ruppert Jones (Josh)
65 - Sam Haggerty (Enzo)
66 - Stan Javier (Erick)
67 - Bruce Bochte (Carson)
68 - Fernando Rodney (Tyrone)
69 - Michael Saunders (Ted)
70 - Dustin Ackley (Danny)

Ruppert Jones, baby! Our first player to be drafted from the inaugural 1977 season! I had no idea who Ruppert Jones, but I was excited to take him. Gotta show some respect for a centerfielder that played all 162 games in two out of his three seasons. The best ability is availability. Sam Haggerty, also known as Sam “Swaggerty.” Great guy with some misleading stats. If you look him up on baseball reference you would have thought he was the modern version of Archie “Moonlight” Graham. Stan Javier, a 2000 and 2001 legend, who has to be on the Mt. Rushmore of most iconic catches by a Mariner. Bruce Bochte, another 1970’s guy who I had never heard of. Not to be confused with Bruce Bochy, who won championships as the manager of the Giants and Rangers. Serious question: who is the Mariners closer that made you lose ten pounds of sweat every time they were on the mound and why is the answer Fernando Rodney. That man, while mostly effective, lost me years of my life with his outings. He’s so iconic that when a new Mariners closer (Munoz, lately) is struggling to get the save, throwing way too many pitches, and making an uninteresting game interesting, we say that they’re doing their best Fernando Rodney impression. Michael Saunders and Dustin Ackley. Respectfully, my least favorite back-to-back selection of the entire draft. I’m rubbing my temples just thinking about those guys.

Eleventh round:

71 - Al Martin (Danny)
72 - Victor Robles (Ted)
73 - Mike Schooler (Tyrone)
74 - John Jaso (Carson)
75 - Miguel Olivo (Erick)
76 - Richie Zisk (Enzo)
77 - Willie Bloomquist (Josh)

We were almost there! Just three more player rounds left!

Al Martin, man. Game 4 of the 2000 Playoffs between the Mariners and the Yankees. My dad and I got in and were hyped to see the Mariners do their thing. Unfortunately for us, Roger Clemens on the mound. He threw a 15 K, one-hit shout-out. Can you guess who got the hit? Al Martin. And the amazing thing? It almost wasn’t a hit. It went off of Tino Martinez’ glove. It was that close to being a no-hitter. Needless to say, my dad and I were a bit dejected by the result. We remember it being a very quiet game. Mike Schooler and Richie Zisk! Another couple players I was introduced to. John Jaso! Another guy I forgot we had, completely. Had to draft Willie Bloom. Couldn’t hit very well, but man could he play every position and wore those Franklin huge Franklin batting-gloves like a champ.

Twelfth round:

78 - Paul Sorrento (Josh)
79 - Leo Rivas (Enzo)
80 - Logan Gilbert (Erick)
81 - Brendan Ryan (Carson)
82 - Luke Raley (Tyrone)
83 - Colt Emerson (Ted)
84 - Russell Branyan (Danny)

Had it not been for the ‘96 Mariners compilation VHS called, “You Gotta Love These Guys”, I’m not sure I could tell you much about Paul Sorrento, but being that that highlight tape is etched into my memory I could tell you that in ‘96 that dude hit some bombs! A lot of new guys during this round. Luke “The Nuke” Raley and Colt “Haven’t played a game yet, but got me a nice contract” Emerson. Leo Rivas came up huge in the Detroit playoff series last year and Russell Branyan is one of those great names that is very easy to forget played for the Mariners.

13th (Final) round:

85 - Dave Valle (Danny)
86 - Eddie Guardado (Ted)
87 - Yuniesky Betancourt (Tyrone)
88 - Eduard Bazardo (Carson)
89 - Phil Bradley (Erick)
90 - Bill Caudill (Enzo)
91 - David Bell (Josh)

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A lot of wonderful pulls for the final seven guys. Dave Valle, who I remember more for being a TV/radio announcer than a late 80s and early 90s catcher. “Every Day” Eddie Guardado. An interesting closer. Phil Bradley, a very solid 80s player who none of us knew pre-draft. Bill Caudill, whose 1982 campaign is kind of remarkable. A reliever, who pitched close to 100 innings, appeared in 70 games, and whose record was 12-9. And, of course, David Bell. I’m not sure he has one single offensive highlight (I’m probably wrong) or picture of him emoting, but he did receive “The Throw” by Ichiro to nail Terence Long at third base and was on the 2000 and 2001 teams, respectively. That counts for something.

Manager round:

Lou Piniella (Josh)
Scott Servais (Enzo)
Dan Wilson (Erick)
Don Wakamatsu (Carson)
Bob Melvin (Tyrone)
Lloyd McClendon (Ted)
Mike Hargrove (Danny)

The Mariners manager round was a fitting end to a wonderful draft. I once was coming back from a game with my dad and we were getting ready to head back home. Lou was in his old-school car next to us. We must have lost because Lou looked like he was absolutely miserable. I think that’s why we loved him though. Always wore his emotions on his sleeve. Rode for his team and absolute must-see TV when he was arguing calls because you didn’t know if he was gonna almost kiss the ump from getting so in-his-face, remove the bag at second base, kick dirt on home plate, or kick his hat from the infield to the outfield.

I hope Dan the Man, who was rightfully selected as a player and a manager (our lone exception) can be the one to bring us a championship. That would be awesome. As of right now, he's gotten a team further than any manager before him, but I know he’s got it in him to get us even further.

EPILOGUE

Final Thoughts:

The only thing I regret about the draft is not documenting it via a podcast (video) episode. There was so much great dialogue back-and-forth, surprise, and elation for each other for these hypothetical selections and even though it was done exclusively through a text chain, the positive energy was palpable.

My hope is that this group will always have the Mariners to bring us/keep us together. As much as we joke about this team providing us with a historic amount of misery, even the misery can be enjoyable. Lamenting terrible performances can be almost as fun, if not more so, than celebrating achievements.

Last year was so special, despite the devastating ending. This year, we’re a month in to the season and sitting at .500 with our main guys starting to wake up from their post-WBC slumber. For now, the AL West does not seem like the class of the American League, but it’s early. After all, our .500 record is good for the third best record in the league.

In other words, anything can happen. The baseball season is wonderfully long. It’s a slog. It’s a marathon. And one of these days their potential will yield a World Series appearance. It’s anyone’s guess when that day might come, but today I’m choosing to echo the sentiments of well-known sportswriter, Jeff Passan, who has been high on the Mariners for a while now and thinks we have what it takes to get to the Fall Classic. From your mouth to the Baseball Gods ears, Jeff.

For your viewing pleasure here were the final rosters.

Danny’s Mariner Draft Picks

Ichiro Suzuki (RF)
John Olerud (1B)
Adrian Beltre (3B)
Kazuhiro Sasaki (CL)
Freddy Garcia (SP)
Mark McClemore (CF)
Carlos Guillen (SS)
Arthur Rhodes (RP)
Harold Reynolds (2B)
Dustin Ackley (UT)
Al Martin (LF)
Russel Branyan (DH)
Dave Valle (C)
Mike Hargrove (Manager)

Ted’s Mariner Draft Picks

Ken Griffey Jr. (CF)
Nelson Cruz (RF)
Bryan Woo (SP)
Eugenio Suarez (3B)
Matt Brash (RP)
Jorge Polanco (DH)
Mike Zunino (CL)
Justin Smoak (1B)
Ketel Marte (2B)
Michael Saunders (LF)
Victor Robles (UT)
Colt Emerson (SS)
Eddie Guardado (CL)
Lloyd Mclendon (Manager)

Tyrone’s Mariner Draft Picks

Jay Buhner (RF)
Jamie Moyer (SP)
Mike Cameron (CF)
Ken Phelps (DH)
Richie Sexson (1B)
Mike Blowers (3B)
Kenji Johjima (C)
Cole Young (2B)
Ken Griffey, Sr. (LF)
Fernando Rodney (CL)
Mike Schooler (RP)
Luke Raley (UT)
Yuniesky Betancourt (SS)
Bob Melvin (Manager)

Carson’s Mariner Draft Picks

Edgar Martinez (DH)
Robinson Cano (2B)
Hisashi Iwakuma (SP)
Randy Arozarena (LF)
Kyle Lewis (CF)
Jeff Nelson (CL)
Mitch Haniger (RF)
Dylan Moore (UT)
Ty France (3B)
Bruce Bochte (1B)
John Jaso (C)
Brendan Ryan (SS)
Eduard Bazardo (RP)
Don Wakamatsu (Manager)

Erick’s Mariner Draft Picks

Alex Rodriguez (SS)
Bret Boone (2B)
Kyle Seager (3B)
Alvin Davis (DH)
Franklin Gutierrez (CF)
Andres Munoz (CL)
Randy Winn (RF)
Tino Martinez (1B)
Shigetoshi Hasegawa (RP)
Stan Javier (UT)
Miguel Olivo (C)
Logan Gilbert (SP)
Phil Bradley (LF)
Dan Wilson (Manager)

Enzo’s Mariner Draft Picks

Julio Rodriguez (CF)
Randy Johnson (SP)
JP Crawford (SS)
Dan Wilson (C)
Teoscar Hernandez (RF)
Edwin Diaz (CL)
Dee Gordon (2B)
Jim Presley (3B)
Dae Ho Lee (1B)
Sam Haggerty (LF)
Richie Zisk (DH)
Leo Rivas (UT)
Bill Caudill (RP)
Scott Servais (Manager)

Josh’s Mariner Draft Picks

Felix Hernandez (SP)
Cal Raleigh (C)
Josh Naylor (1B)
Raul Ibanez (LF)
Joey Cora (2B)
Jean Segura (SS)
JJ Putz (CL)
Jose Guillen (RF)
Norm Charlton (RP)
Ruppert Jones (CF)
Willie Bloomquist (UT)
Paul Sorrento (DH)
David Bell (3B)
Lou Piniella (Manager)

BOOKS

This recent month has allowed for more time to read in the in-between moments. Overall, due to certain circumstances, I’ve been on my phone and computer less. Rediscovering an appreciation for reading has been a highlight of the year, so far.

1. “Angela Davis: An Autobiography” by Angela Davis

Nothing in the world made me angrier than inaction, than silence…the refusal to do something, say something when a thing needed doing or saying was unbearable.

I think the first time I remember hearing and seeing footage of Angela Davis was in an AFRAM (African American Studies) class at UW some years ago. We all watched the documentary, “The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975” and it piqued my interest in her, as well as Kwame Ture (previously known as Stokely Carmichael). Then, around the beginning of COVID, I tried my hand at her book, “Women, Race, & Class” and, admittedly, a lot of it went over my head. The feeling of not understanding as much as I wanted to incited me to look at more of her books so, still determined, I finally picked up her autobiography and I’m glad I did. She pays special tribute to Toni Morrison for helping to narrow the focus into a very specific timeline, mainly the 60s and early 70s. A woman unafraid to speak up, Angela faced never-ending persecution for her beliefs as a communist and her affiliation with the Black Liberation Movement (and connected parties). By the end, you empathize completely with her exhaustion from all the time spent unjustly incarcerated (and in the most deplorable of conditions) and admire her fearlessness for refusing to acquiesce to the forces that did their best to stifle her.

2. “Save the Cat! Writes for TV: The Last Book on Creating Binge-Worthy Content You'll Ever Need” by Jamie Nash

“Save the Cat”, the original book in the series, has been one of the most formative works that I constantly go back to when I’m trying to create a screenplay (I’ve kept it in my backpack for months). Their 15 Beat methodology for a three-act movie is as important to my generation as Syd Field’s “Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting” was (and still is) to generations previous. I have lofty dreams of being able to create something for television some day soon and this provided plenty of good insight, but sometimes these types of books can feel like self-help books in that a big percentage is a variation of the same theme. It’s as if you’re searching for that needle in the “how to write a screenplay” haystack that’s going to unlock your own work. Half of the battle with these books is getting accustomed to the industry formula that translates to the page and ultimately to the audiences, but there is always a piece of me that resists getting overly dependent on “the way.”

3. “Emotional Intelligence: Why It Can Matter More Than IQ” by Daniel Goleman

I came to this book through a conversation I had last year with one of my middle school teachers, Ms. Gerlitz. Back in sixth grade I took her class called Personal Growth and it was easily one of my favorites. For one, I was one of the only sixth graders in a class of mostly eighth graders, so the exposure to the older kids made me feel like I was being given a special opportunity to shed a lot of that early naivete. Then, the way the class was modeled felt like being given a playbook on how to handle the emotional roller of middle school. “How do you feel today? What’s on your mind? What’s making you feel good? What’s making you feel bad? What’s something that happened recently that made you feel excited or upset? How did you handle those feelings/emotions?” I also remember there being a really big focus on making sure that her classroom provided a safe environment to share, an invaluable experience too, because while there were so many unique experiences happening to all of us, it didn’t always feel like we had a space or the means to talk through them, but in that class we did. 20+ years down the road and there is still so much I’m learning about the emotional mind, maturity, empathy, decision making, and communication. I’m actually very excited to read this book again to continue my journey to become a more emotionally intelligent individual.

MOVIES

1. “Secrets and Lies” (dir. Mike Leigh)

Mike Leigh might just be one of the best directors to do it. My friend Spencer maintains that he doesn’t think Leigh has made a bad movie and, while I haven’t seen his whole catalogue, based on the ones I have seen, I’d have to agree. Last year I saw “High Hopes” and “Another Year” for the first time. Beautiful movies and Leigh is so damn good at getting great performances from his actors.

This story follows Hortense (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) and the search to find her birth mother (Blenda Blethlyn). One of Leigh’s greatest strengths is the creation of the living and breathing family; eccentric, flawed, humorous, and tragic. Timothy Spall, Phyllis Logan, and Claire Rushbrook round out a superb supporting cast.

Also, if you want some audible delights and have access to a platform that has podcasts available, check out Leigh’s conversation with Marc Maron on the “WTF” podcast to learn more about Leigh’s upbringing and filmmaking process. His most recent appearance at Lincoln Center to talk about “Hard Truths” is also a great episode.

2. “Apocalypse Now: The Final Cut” (dir. Francis Ford Coppola)

Friday night, March 20th, 7:30 at a sold-out Aero Theater in Santa Monica. When the programmer asked the crowd how many in the audience was seeing “Apocalypse Now” for the first time about half raised their hand. For me, I was seeing it in the theater for the first time, but in a sense, being that it was the Final Cut, I was seeing this particular version for the first time. With about 40 extra minutes added to the theatrical cut, this film still is a sight to behold, never waning, and an incredible journey into the insanity of war. It was part of a series the American Cinematheque was doing on the late, great Robert Duvall. While watching I realized how little I remembered. The incredible opening set to “The End” by the doors, a warped-out Martin Sheen looking like he’s doing tai-chi in front of a mirror.

This time around, I think what I found most effective was the combination of how breathtaking the direction and cinematography were and overall sloppiness and absurdity of the mission Sheen’s character was on. Whether it was the extended surfing sequence that feature some of the most iconic lines ever on screen or the various stops that Sheen’s troupe makes, the message was clear. War is a horror and war is a mess.

3. “Project Hail Mary” (dir. Phil Lord, Chris Miller)

Ryan Gosling might be the most watchable movie-star in Hollywood. I first saw him in “Remember the Titans” and, as Bill Simmons likes to say, I’ve had season tickets to his career from the start. We’ll see if “Project Hail Mary” becomes his biggest movie ever because it’s off to a scorching start and it was easy to see why after I saw it this past weekend. One of Gosling’s best traits is his approachability. He’s funny, he’s warm, he’s sarcastic, and he (almost) always knows how to get the job done. His performance a couple of years ago at the Oscars of “I’m Just Ken” was iconic. In PHH he plays a middle school science teacher with a PHD who gets plucked by the government to save the world from a substance that’s killing the sun. There’s a ton of movies it’s inspired by, namely “E.T.”, “Interstellar”, and “The Martian” but it still manages to create a lane for itself. And it’s 100 percent a movie to see in a big theater.

SEATTLE SPORTS

Another March Without a Dawg in the Race

This month used to mean a lot to me as a sports fan. Coming of age in the 00’s I, along with many a Seattle basketball fan, was spoiled by the success of the University of Washington Men’s Basketball Team. In that decade alone they reached the NCAA tournament five times, including three Sweet 16 performances. I don’t think I’m overstepping when I say that there was the feeling that those teams were on the precipice of something even greater (the elusive Elite Eight or Final Four) and that due to the consistency of the recruiting classes, the best might have been yet to come. Those teams, however, were led by a unique collection of talent, many of which were local to the area. Names like Nate Robinson, Will Conroy, Brandon Roy, Tre Simmons, Isaiah Thomas, Jon Brockman, Ryan Appleby, who were then flanked by other West Coast talent like Bobby Jones, Jamaal Williams, Quincy Pondexter, Justin Holiday, Darnell Gant, and Terrence Ross. (Seven out of those thirteen played in the NBA).

Outside of a rare appearance in 2018-2019 when the Huskies made it to the second round, their last NCAA tournament was 2010-2011, on the heels of a buzzer-beating step-back by Isaiah Thomas. Those two years seem to be from an era long ago, while the other 14 years have been mired in misery. Three different coaches, many NBA prospects, and no post-season success.

In this complicated century, the Huskies have played quite a few roles. At the beginning they were searching for an identity. Bob Bender was the coach, but could never duplicate the success he found in the 1997-1998 season, a team broken by a Richard Hamilton put-back. Lorenzo Romar then came in, provided a new voice, and was super-charged by, one could argue, the best crop of local talent that the city had seen. When the Sonics left at the end of 2008-2008 season, the Huskies’ success was that much more important. The basketball audience continued to find solace in watching the high school basketball scene thrive and then, if the Husky faithful was lucky (which they often were), they could watch those local stars play at Hec-Edmunson Pavilion (“Hec-Ed”). Even though the third rung of a professional basketball team was missing (Sonics leave in 2008), those first two produced more than a few wonderful memories.

Since the year of the step-back (and the era of the Pac 10 and 12), the city of Seattle has been missing one of its most precious actors. Despite still having a very strong collection of local players around the region, the team, likely due to its lackluster performance, has not been able to corral or entice its best high school players to stay. They’ve tried several things, such as hiring alumni like Quincy Pondexter, Abdul Gaddy, and Will Conroy to lure in the state’s best, but to no avail, and it’s hard to believe that Will Conroy, Jr. and J.J. Crawford, the nationally ranked sons of some of the best players to come out of the state of Washington, will commit to UW, whereas in the past this might have been in the cards.

With no NBA basketball team to root for (though more on that in a second) and with no college team to cheer for, the month of March is exciting only for the true junkie—the gambling degenerate and the diehards of the sport, but for me, the homer, the emotional man, there is a void in my Seattle sporting soul that hopes to be filled one day, a vacancy that could be resolved with a raucous Alaska Airlines arena showcasing the local basketball products we’ve now come to lean on more than ever.

Until then, this month will be for busted brackets and reflections of how the mighty have fallen to 12th in a conference of 18, and how one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, the Seattle kids of old will be able to see a state final at the Tacoma Dome between Rainier Beach and Garfield in February and huddle in their TV rooms in March, eager to watch the Huskies compete, a key player in the madness, again.

The Sonics Return…no seriously, I think

Well, the cat is out the bag. The Sonics are coming back to town.

Wait. Hold up. Are they? We’ve heard this story before, right?

About a week ago “the NBA’s Board of Governors voted to move forward to explore bids for expansion teams in Seattle and Las Vegas.”

This, on the surface, feels different. This, on the surface, feels like a return actually might be imminent, though. Right?

On one hand, this issue has felt imminent in various degrees for the past 20 years. You remember when we almost stole the Kings? I’m glad that didn’t happen, by the way. Just because the Sonics were stolen from Seattle didn’t make me want to steal a team, too. The Kings are a historic franchise, lately with their fair share of struggles, but with a great fan base. Why would I wish that upon anyone? If it hadn’t been for a last minute pull-back by the Sacramento politicians and a rejection by the NBA we might have had a team back in 2013-2014.

The trouble is, as promising as this most recent development seems, the NBA is still run by commissioner, Adam Silver. David Stern, his predecessor, was a snake. I believe he took pleasure in seeing Seattle leave. Adam Silver looks like Voldemort, so also a snake. I’m sure he’s not actually as evil, but he has demonstrated a PHD in evading questions and keeping Seattle Supersonic fans at bay since he arrived in 2014.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I am still suspicious of our return and suspicions are liable to mutate over two decades. Bill Simmons also shares my concerns. He thinks that there’s a chance we still might not get a team either and he says that that would be particularly tragic and ugly this time around because of how public this whole ordeal has been. The NBA is playing around with Seattle’s hopes. There are hundreds of millions to billions of dollars to be made for 30 ownership groups by adding two new teams, which will ultimately probably get the job done. This, after a 77 billion dollar media rights deal allowed for expansion talks to re-ignite.

Tracy McGrady, however, has a distinct opinion. The way teams are tanking nowadays (mentioning Brooklyn and Washington) leads him to believe that the NBA shouldn’t even consider two new franchises. He believes there isn’t enough talent to go around (adding 30 more players to the fold). Bobby Marks thinks that Seattle could be a key player in the league if it had a team right now. There’s a built-in fanbase. Climate Pledge (always Key Arena to me) is rearing to host a basketball team. Projected evaluations for these two new franchises could be anywhere from 7-10 billion dollars. Have I mentioned that there is a lot of money to go around?

Now, here’s where I do a 180, so apologies in advance for the combination of whiplash and sour grapes.

The Sonics left 20 years ago. I spoke about this last year. The basketball fan base in Seattle was stripped of watching prime LeBron, the Black Mamba, and essentially the entire careers of Steph Curry and Kevin Durant, who, I don’t think I need to remind you, was drafted here and played for us during the last season the Sonics were in Seattle. I was 16 going on 17 back in 2008. In 2028-2029, the proposed return year for the Sonics, I will be 37 going on 38. The product of the game has changed dramatically. It’s not as good as it used to be, even as recent as ten years ago and I think most people would agree. Legalized betting, I believe, has turned the game for the worse. The money, whether you want to say the players getting paid 70 million a year (hey, good for them, when the owners are billionaires) or the parlays that court-side fans are trying to get Kevin Durant to hit and letting him know about it during the game, has flip-turned the game upside down. I haven’t watched a full regular season game in years. Maybe this is more of a reflection of my lack of passion for professional sports, not relegated to just basketball. Maybe I’m not a real fan.

But maybe I’m just getting older and more bitter. I’m sure I’ll rediscover the fire once I see those Sonics jerseys back on the hardwood where they belong. Lord knows you’ve all heard me say how much I want to be at the first home game against the Thunder (what would Vegas say the odds are of me getting kicked out?). I wonder if the day comes where I have children if that won’t also help renew interest. When you’re young you don’t pay attention to the money and the politics. Your ignorance is bliss.

So, until then, I guess I’ll try not to let my doubts and suspicions run amok. I’ll try to remain ignorant of recent SuperSonics past, which has made me fearful of a hazy future.

For now, my present is filled with far-off, but not-too-distant memories of Kevin Calabro, the music man of 950 KJR and KONG 16, improvising lyrical poetry to the movements of Gary Payton assists and Shawn Kemp alley-oops. “Good Golly, Miss Molly!” “Nobody do the voodoo that you do!” “Get on up with the down stroke!” “Get on your magic carpet and ride!” “Flying chickens in the barnyard!” The Glove to the Reign Man. Ray Allen for the TREY. Luke Ridnour with the DISH. Smooth Sam Perkins and Reshard Sweet Lew Lewis. And a lanky 19-year old prodigy named Kevin Durant getting ready to take the stage…

Bliss.

This is not a footnote.

The Rainier Beach Vikings won their 11th High School Basketball championship this year. I say this facetiously, but it feels like they should have 20. All jokes aside, while the Huskies and Sonics have had their ups and downs and heres and theres and everywheres and nowheres, Rainier Beach has provided a blessing to the Seattle sports fan and Seattle basketball-file. My dad put me onto Rainier Beach fandom through various stories of his time there in the late 80s, including teaching current head coach of the Kings, Doug Christie. In the late 90s I got to watch Jamal Crawford. His state tourney that my dad and I attended was the stuff of legend. In the early 2000s it was the Stewart Twins and Nate Robinson. Later in the decade I got to play against Rainier Beach (not exactly a highlight). I could go on an on.

11 championships is basketball royalty. This year they were led by #1 high school player Tyran Stokes and super-freshman, the aforementioned J.J. Crawford. It felt on par with Michael Porter’s one year with Nathan Hale. Packed gyms. Plenty of deserved fanfare. An incredible energy surrounding the game.

It’s hard for me to say anyone could be as good as Jamal was when he was playing in high school, but I never saw him play as a freshman. It’s chilling to see J.J. mimic some of the movements of his father. He’s got such a feel for the game and he’s so young. I wonder if Jamal thinks his son is better than he was at that age. A tricky question because we all know that Jamal’s ascent lifted him to an incredible career.

Yet, after Beach won the state final, J.J. said, “Three more to go.”

The son is coming.

The Mariners through 5 games…

Need I remind you that this is a 162 game season?

But OK, you want some early reactions?

We have a real leadoff hitter for the first time since Ichiro. Brendan Donovan looks great. I suspect that I’ll take to his contributions like I did to Josh Naylor’s takeover of the second half of last season. An example? One of the games over the weekend Donovan went 0 for 2 with two walks, which might not seem like much since he didn’t record a hit, but those two walks are beautiful. As my Pops said, “Might as well have been 2 for 4.”

The big guys are pressing. Cal, Julio, and Naylor are clearly trying to do too much, too soon. Cal even mentioned last night that the guys are trying to get their timing back. However, even I admit that I thought three of the guys who got some WBC (World Baseball Classic) reps would have caught up a little quicker.

The starting pitching staff looks solid. The bullpen looks a little all over the place. Why do we still have Legumina? PLEASE TELL ME! WHY!?

Yesterday, I went to the game to see them take on the Yankees with my dad and my sister. They won 2-1 on a ninth inning walk-off single by Raleigh. The game was quite chilly, but there were several highlights:

1. Aura Gallo-Brown throwing out the first pitch on her 8th birthday, next to Mayor Katie Wilson. A beautiful sight.

2. Luis Castillo, “La Piedra”, pitching beautifully and recording his 1,500th career strikeout.

3. Cole Young looking like a stud, going 3 for 4. MVP candidate?

4. Mariners fans standing up in big moments as early as the 7th inning. I’m not kidding. This is remarkable for a million reasons, but it gave me the chills. This felt like a big deal. I know it was a Yankees game and so much of the fervor was an attempt to stifle a Yankees fan takeover, but it told me that this year this fanbase is tuned in and expects something great. This never happens this early.

5. An in-person Mariners win. The last four games I watched were the four losses against the Bluejays. I needed this, ha!

THE OTHERS

Running

I feel like I might be turning a corner energy-wise and running-wise. For so long it felt like a slow descent into the doldrums, but lately with some tweaks to nutrition and prioritizing rest, I’ve been able to find a better rhythm on the pavement. I’m still far and away from how I used to feel and the speed isn’t there yet, but it’s coming back slowly and surely. It’s a bit of a relief to go into the San Diego Marathon training block with a shifting goal for the race itself—a slower, steadier run. We’ll see how I feel come the beginning of May. It feels better to be enjoying my runs more than I had in previous months and I think the fact that March was a long month with ample opportunities to get out there was a big help.

Writing

I have a bunch of first drafts done for some projects I’d like to turn into shorts and features. The good and the bad of it is I write everything out by hand first, since I don’t like starting at a blank page on the computer and love drafting on yellow pads, but now I’m staring down several full yellow pads and am still in the hypnosis of free-writing / drafting by hand (keeping the writing streak alive) instead of transitioning those written pages into the computer and taking the next step in the drafting process. This all sounds really complicated I’m sure, but it’s really just dealing with the consequences of creating an extra step. I think of how long ago, “Chasing 24” was and get so frustrated that it’s taken me this long to really start to get the next project/s in motion (with a long way to go still, obviously). Having been to a film festival like Sundance this year and always having SIFF on my radar, I’m reminded that a film festival is always something that I want to be involved in.

Self-doubt is my biggest obstacle. For as much as I believe in myself, I frequently encounter a lack of confidence. The insidious way that doubt infiltrates the writing process or even the space where you’re just thinking of ideas and ways to build on your projects is like a final-boss who transforms and shape-shifts into a different monster with a new arsenal of moves every day.

I’m gonna get them done though. Who knows how and what order, but I know that my next project will find its way into festivals.

If you’re from Seattle, there might not be another video store with as much history and community support as Scarecrow Video on Roosevelt Ave. in the University District. It serves as both a home for the strongest cinefiles and the wandering tourist and visitor. Its catalogue is vast as it boasts a collection of over 150,000 titles on their website (155, 248 as of March 6).

In recent years, a strong campaign was launched to “S.O.S.” (Save Our Scarecrow) due to an ongoing threat of permanent closure. Scarecrow did not own their building and, between the high cost of rent and inherent challenges of running a physical media store (new releases, competition with streamers, etc.), they faced quite an uphill battle. Last year there was also the issue of one of their exterior walls collapsing, forcing a temporary closure. More salt in an ever-growing wound.

This story, however, has an happy ending—a bit of an anomaly in this day and age. First, they met their goal of raising 1.8 million and “saved their scarecrow”, for the time being. This allowed them to “sustain operations and invest in critical staff, equipment and software infrastructure”, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. It wasn’t revealed until earlier this year that Scarecrow had been able to purchase their building for the hefty sum of $5.6 million dollars! What would this do? Well, it would “secure the future of what organizers say is the world's largest publicly accessible physical media collection.” This was a gigantic win for the Scarecrow community, film-lovers, and, in many ways, the city of Seattle, which has a checkered past saving their institutions.

It was a bittersweet victory. In January, it was announced that the Varsity Theater in the University District would be closing permanently. In February, it was announced that the SIFF Egyptian, which had suffered water damage back in 2024, would be closing permanently. Both were significant losses, but particularly the Egyptian since there was an opportunity to continue operations (the repairs after the flood had been completed) and pre-flood they still had a solid flow of business. The Varsity had been on its last legs for a while. In a statement, SIFF stated they were “currently prioritizing financial and operational sustainability above all else so the organization can continue the expansive programming offered at our additional three venues: SIFF Cinema Downtown, SIFF Cinema Uptown, and the SIFF Film Center.”

Seven Gables. Metro. Harvard Exit. Guild 45th. (Neptune). Egyptian. Varsity.

Gone.

Gone were the spaces that hosted so many of my favorite memories, weekly trips to the movie theater with my mom, my dad, my sister, other friends and family. And gone too were the local video stores where we’d all go if a trip to the theater wasn’t in the cards.

Growing up, I split time between my Mom’s (in Fremont) and my Dad’s (in Phinney Ridge, Greenwood). In Fremont, the local video stores were Video Isle (my personal favorite) and Rain City on 36th. At my Dad’s, the local video store was the Market St. Rain City. It was not uncommon to rent a movie from one of these stores and see a movie at the theater every weekend. The best part about it was becoming close with the employees. At Video Isle, where I spent the majority of my time, we’d revel in the opportunity to walk through the neighborhood, check out their new posters outside, and stop in to roam the walls and make the often challenging decision of selecting a movie. They made their own popcorn, which they served for free, and the waft of butter could tantalize even the stuffiest of noses.

They had a really cool system of recommending movies by putting star stickers on the movie cases with the names of the employees. I was trying to remember which movies were completely filled with stickers. I couldn’t, but I can remember the layout like it was standing in front of me. Where the international films stood, where the “mischief and mayhem” section was, the kids section, new releases, and the staff pick wall. I remember the yellow take-away cases, which later included a pink strip for new releases that you could get a dollar off of your next purchase if you brought it back the next day. It made me happy to see people walking around the neighborhood with those yellow cases. It was a Fremont mecca.

Kevin, a Video Isle employee, was one of the nicest guys there and my mom, my sister, and I would often go to him for suggestions. Most of the time they were great and other times my mom and I would run into a film that was good, but maybe I wasn’t ready for so young, like “Clerks”. There was also a very sweet lady, who lived on our block (her name evades me) and she was also a great go-to for movie titles. I was sad to see her leave Video Isle and our block when she started a family and moved on in search of a different neighborhood. Can’t forget Ray either, from Rain City, with his great smile and his Rapunzel-length black hair. He frequently helped my Dad and I out at both the 36th St. and Market St. locations.

Rain City and Video Isle have been long gone, but I think about them often. Just last week, it was announced that Video Isle had donated their entire collection to Scarecrow Video, Scarecrow’s largest donation ever. While this also felt bittersweet, I felt an immense pride that my local video store would be consolidating its films with the biggest collection in the world. I will always miss the time of the local video store just like I’ll always miss the time where more movie theaters existed, but this was a win, in any case.

It’s another opportunity and a good reminder that local movie theaters (not named AMC or Regal) do exist in Seattle and that they can always use our support. Give any of those three aforementioned SIFF locations a visit. Check out the Crest in Shoreline, the Admiral in West Seattle, Beacon Cinema in Beacon Hill, the Ark Lodge (which was just bought and will resume programming!!!) in Columbia City, and NWFF in Capitol Hill. And if you’ve never been to Scarecrow Video, you must go. It’s a film library. It’s as amazing as it is overwhelming, but in the best way. The employees are encyclopedias. When you go there you feel like you’re a part of something. As long as Scarecrow Video is still standing, the Seattle film community will remain strong. And as long as Scarecrow Video is still standing, Video Isle will be standing with it.

I didn’t see nearly as many movies this month, but it wasn’t without several special experiences. Here were some of my most memorable viewings, all of which, funnily enough, involved some awesome tandems:

1. “In-I In Motion” (dir. Juliette Binoche)

Juliette Binoche has always been one of my favorite actors, so I jumped at the opportunity to see her directorial debut (a title she disputes) and an in-person Q&A at the Los Feliz 3. Beyond the wonder of seeing her up-close and finding much meaning in the post-show talk back, I really appreciated what I was seeing in the movie. Almost 20 years ago, she and dancer Akram Kahn took a break from their respective solo careers to create a dual dance performance that toured the world. Being able to watch a dancer learn the craft of acting alongside a world-renowned actress, while Juliette challenged herself by diving into the laborious and physical world of dance, was really special. I’m not sure what the distribution will be for this film in the future, but if you get the chance to see it, I’d definitely recommend it.

For your listening and viewing pleasure, here is the audio of most of the Q&A and a video of one of the questions from the audience.

2. “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” (dir. Nia DaCosta)

28 Years Later was one of the most slept on movies of 2025. In an industry where the number of poor sequels far outweighs the good ones, “The Bone Temple”, the second installment in this newer trilogy, was an equally fun surprise, though grisly and, at times, hard to watch. Like its predecessor, this film did not receive its due critically or at the box office, which is a shame because unlike all the shitty IP that is being greenlit by the second, this series actually has something interesting to say. The most entertaining sections involve scenes with actors Jack O’Connell (and his possee, “The Jimmys”) and Ralph Fiennes just doing wonderful, gorgeous Ralph Fiennes things. I know zombie movies feel like a tired subject nowadays, but with Alex Garland and Danny Boyle (the original brains behind “28 Days Later”) still at the helm, you can bet I’ll be in the seats.

3. “Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie” (dir. Matt Johnson)

Independent, quirky, hilarious, endearing cinema does exist. I knew nothing about the Nirvanna web series or the TV show, nor had I ever heard of Matt Johnson and Jay McCarrol, so I went into this completely blind. It was such a refreshing viewing experience watching these two re-create their own “Back to the Future” and with some much-appreciated Canadian flair. I might have to break my TV hiatus to check their show out.

4. “Splittsville” (dir. Michael Angelo Covino)

Listen, there is a scene in this movie that involves a roller coaster and a goldfish that had me laughing the hardest I’ve laughed in recent memory. That reason alone is enough to watch this, but I found it to be reminiscent of those solid comedies that we were accustomed to finding in the early aughts of the 00’s and 10’s.

BOOKS

I’m happy to report that I was able to continue my streak of two books a month and it’s got me feeling optimistic that maybe I can stretch it to three.

1. “Adventures in the Screen Trade” by William Goldman

William Goldman was responsible for writing some of the best scripts in Hollywood, including “All the President’s Men”, “Butch Cassidy”, “Marathon Man”, “The Princess Bride”, and “Misery.” An insider’s insider, he brings an invaluable perspective gained from decades of industry experience working with some of the most respected and revered actors and directors, which feels like a gift to hopeful writers and creatives for generations to come.

2. “Emperor of Gladness” by Ocean Vuong

A heavy, lyrical novel centered around a young drug addict and the elderly, Romanian woman suffering from dementia, whom he cares for. Addiction is one of those topics that, no matter how well it’s written about, is always hard to digest. In this case, Hai, the main character, suffers from an addiction to pills. Vuong is able to meld this sedated, chopped-and-screwed sensation with his signature poetic writing style, but at times it can get really, really heavy. Still, a really solid book that I’m glad I read.

SUPER BOWL LIX

I’d be lying if I said I’ve paid much attention to football since a) Marshawn wasn’t given the ball at the one-yard line, b) the NFL blackballed Colin Kaepernick, c) after Marshawn left the Seahawks for the second time, and d) all of the above. I am admittedly the most casual, fairweather fan when it comes to the Seahawks nowadays, but I certainly was paying attention to their rapid ascent to the Super Bowl this year, far ahead of schedule, and in Mike Macdonald’s second year as the head coach. I feel so grateful to have watched another Seattle championship take place, the second Seahawks championship in their history. Four Super Bowl appearances in this century and two wins? Not bad. And the best part, this team looks like it could be a dynasty. I’m not promising more football watching in the future, but I’m excited for all of my friends who are avid fans and, of course, for my hometown, which has such an awesome product to root for. Can the Mariners follow suit?

MARINERS 2026

I’m ready for a Mariners World Series. I’m hungry. I’m starving. We all are. We need this. We want this. We must have this.

A full year of Josh Naylor got me hype. A fuckin’ tough-as-nails player like Brendan Donovan seems like a promising pick-up. A starting rotation that is slated to be healthy. Hopeful progression from our young guys. Maybe a full Julio season? Don’t worry Cal, I’m not expecting you to hit 60 home runs again…but if you did I wouldn’t upset.

When it comes to this team, it’s always a bit hard to keep my emotions in check and after everything that happened last year they might have done the worst thing possible by creating such high, high expectations. This team doesn’t have a great track record for going beyond a lofty bar, but I’m praying for a different outcome. My specific breed of die-hard Mariners neurosis elicits a crippling anxiety that yields frantic, depraved excitement and soul-sucking dread.

There were some that had already felt like they had won when Geno hit that Game 5 Grand Slam, guaranteeing our furthest playoff run in team history. In real time, I was furious. We hadn’t won anything, yet. I know it’s a step forward if we make it to the World Series this year, but I fear the same excitement if we adopt the “we’re just happy to be here” approach. I know we’re the only team that has yet to make Fall Classic, but if we get there, we gotta win!

THE NEVER-ENDING SEARCH FOR STABILITY

Subbing

Subbing has picked up, thankfully, and I’ve been working more than I have all school year, particularly at Grant High School. It’s nice to work at a place consistently enough to build rapport with the students. Going from one place to another had its challenges, but the worst part was always the lack of familiarity. Regardless of how good or bad I am as a sub, if the kids know they are only going to see me once, the likelihood of them going crazy increases exponentially.

Here are a few of my favorite moments this year:

Le Conte Middle School

One day I was subbing for some 7th graders, taking roll, and every kid was present. There was a seating chart. Every kid was at their seat, except for one, who elected to sit with her friend. I called her by the name on the chart and asked if she would sit in her assigned seat. She resisted. I debated making a thing of it, especially since it was only a one day assignment. Anyway, I told her that I could bring admin into the equation if there was going to be a problem. She elected to leave, saying she was going to the counselor.

When she left, a couple of the kids admitted that she wasn’t even in the class to begin with. While I was shocked, I have to admit, I was also a bit impressed. She knew enough to know who was missing and thought she might have a good time in the class I was subbing for.

When she returned later, I asked her on her way to the seat what her name was. She said the name of the kid who was absent and I told her that that wasn’t true. During the time she had been gone, the kids had told me who she really was. Her cover blown, she elected not to sit down, had a few words for me, and made her exit.

All in a day’s work.

Grant 1

While working one of my first sub jobs in L.A. I found myself at Grant High School, which has since become the school I sub at the most. It’s a very nice school with a really unique mix of kids. It’s about half Latino and half Armenian.

Grant High School’s schedule, however, gives me traumatic flashbacks to 6th and 7th grade when we had four periods a day of 80 minutes. At Grant, the periods are even longer—100 for Period 1 and 90 for the other three. During one of the assignments there was about 10-15 minutes left of first period and this young kid comes in. He wave him over so I could mark him down for attendance and I ask him his name. He tells me. He’s Armenian. I ask him where he had been and he just paused, smiled, and said, “…work.” Now I didn’t know what that meant—I wondered what type of work he might have been up to on a weekday before 10AM, but the way he said it and the casualness of the word did make me think he had been up to something. It was the 15 year-old of it all that was jarring to me because he was giving off the vibe of someone much, much older.

He then proceeded to go to all of his Armenian friends (exclusively guys) and, one-by-one, gave them the standard kiss on each cheek. It was out of a movie.

Grant 2

The last memorable story is merely an overreaction. I was subbing for a film class and the teacher had assigned “Ocean’s Eleven” to the kids, basically the last third. I was engrossed. It’s a classic, for God’s sake! These kids were uninterested and unimpressed. It made me so sad.

Acting

After working on a scene from “Thinner Than Water” by Melissa Ross for the first several weeks of class, I recently moved on to “Mauritius” by Theresa Rebeck. It’s been fun diving into new material, working on it with new scene partners, and getting to see other people’s work, as well.

Running

Still as slow as ever, still fatigued after shorter runs, but a change must come because my 12-week block pre-San Diego is around the corner. Three runs a week feels too seldom to get any sort of rhythm, so I’m anticipating a change of energy for the better as I progress to 4-5 days and 35-45 miles a week.

AND LAST, BUT NOT LEAST

Here are some of my favorite photos from the last month.

I thought I was gonna start off the year slow movie-wise, but Sundance 2026 (more on that later) and an itch to get through the Oscar movies and best of from 2025 had other plans. Here are some recent watches of note (in no order):

1. “The Mastermind” (dir. Kelly Reichardt)

The pace of a Kelly Reichardt film is a wonder of contemporary cinema, despite not being everyone’s cup of tea. I’ve always enjoyed how deliberate she is—taking her time with her stories, whether it’s her shorter runtime movies like “Old Joy” and “Wendy and Lucy” or her standard length films like “First Cow” or “Certain Women.” I’m sure there is a criticism that her works are too slow and that might be true, but, personally, I’ve never found them to be boring. The greatest thing about Reichardt? She doesn’t care. “The Mastermind”, which follows a bumbling art thief looking for his next score, looks amazing (set in 70s New England) and has a beautiful live-jazz sort-of soundtrack by Rob Mazurek that reminded me of my favorite thing about the film “Birdman.” Josh O’Connor continues to be absolutely watchable even as he envelops himself in more and more buffoonery.

2. “Nouvelle Vague” (dir. Richard Linklater)

Richard Linklater had a busy 2025, releasing this and “Blue Moon.” He succeeded in making the saddest movie of the year (the latter) and the happiest / most cheerful. Linklater has long been one of my favorite directors. I wonder if I were to be stranded on a desert island and could have any director filmmography if he wouldn’t be my choice. I mean, for all the time I’d have on the island, listening to his characters talk in “Dazed and Confused” and the “Before” trilogy (among others)—there would be a sure source of comfort. (Although the trilogy might make me long for a companion on this supposed island). While I appreciated “Blue Moon”, I really, really liked “Nouvelle Vague” and while that film also has its detractors, its main criticism was actually what I liked most about it. “Nouvelle Vague” (translated to New Wave) tracks the making of “Breathless” by Jean-Luc Godard. What I knew, but did not know was the sheer amount of works produced by those French filmmakers during the time period (something like 150+ debuts). Some critics wondered why Linklater would try to re-create this moment in time. Why show us the making of “Breathless” when we could just watch “Breathless”? I loved it, though. The black-and-white photography transported me to 1960s Paris in way that I haven’t seen from other films attempting to go back in time, especially Netflix ones. The actors are carbon copies of the real-life individuals they’re portraying. And it’s fun! There is a whimsical feeling to this movie that genuinely made me feel happy.

Also, there were so many good quotes in this movie that I thought I’d share a few of my favorites:

• “The best way to criticize a film is to make one.”

• “Filming should only be done in a state of urgency and necessity.”

• “One is always alone. On the set. As before the blank page. To be alone means to ask questions. To make films means to answer them.”

3. “No Other Choice” (dir. Park Chan-wook)

While I can’t say I’m the biggest Park Chan-wook fan, I can nonetheless admit that he is a master filmmaker. Out of all of the 2025 titles I walked out of this film feeling gutted. It makes no bones about the current (and future) impact of AI on the workforce. We watch a man get let go from his job only to watch him grow so desperate during his search for a new one that he goes on a killing spree to murder his competition. When the final scene is presented and the credits follow, we wonder if all of the laughing we did along the way wasn’t just a Mickey Mouse sized finger pointing directly back at us, poking us in the arm until we get a bruise. The cinematography is remarkable, as are the performances (special shout-out to Lee Byung-hun, Son Ye-jin and So Yul Choi, who play the father, mother and daughter, respectively). But man, if this is the future we have to look forward to it would be a challenge not to feel some sense of doom and gloom.

BOOKS

I feel sorry to admit that my daily/weekly/annual reading has taken a huge hit post-COVID. On the surface that might not make sense, but my yearly numbers have plummeted. I made a resolution this year to read more and this month I’m on pace to finish two whopping books! I know, I know, but please, save your applause. It was only just a couple of years pre-COVID when I had read more than a book a week. I’ve loved the renewed sensation of my brain opening and processing the written word from a book, as opposed to the visual processing that I, and many people have gotten used to. The feeling during a day or a week of reading as opposed to not is night and day. I’d rather read 50 pages than zonk out on a computer screen (except when it comes to movies).

1. “Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear” by Elizabeth Gilbert

I admit that I’ve sort of grown tired of self-help books, but this one was different since it was a gift from my sister and I had been feeling a little creatively deprived, as of late. Instead of a summary gabbing about why I liked it, I thought it would be more interesting to share some of my favorite quotes that resonated and that I hope will stick in my mind like mental tattoos.

• “Argue for your limitations and you can keep them”

• “The less you fight fear, the less it fights back.”

• “My creative expression must be the most important thing in the world to me (if I am to live artistically) and it also must not matter at all (if I am to live sanely.”

• “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you don’t bring it forth what is within you, what you keep inside will destroy you.”

2. “Skid Road” by Murray Morgan

A good book if you’re interested in the origins of Seattle. Personal favorite accounts include the war between W.L. Meredith and the Considine brothers, as well as the competitive war between John Considine and Pericles Pantages.

SUNDANCE 2026

Having a movie twin cannot be understated. It’s such a surreal and awesome feeling to have someone that listens to the same movie podcasts you do, listens to the same interviews of the same actors / film creatives, and is interested in pretty much 75% of the films you’re interested in. I don’t have time to go crazy in depth about how this unique relationship came to be, but that someone for me is Clarize.

At some point in the last quarter of 2025, the idea of Sundance was thrown into the stratosphere. The last year at Park City. All the history. And a bucket list item, of sorts. It was one of those funny, spontaneous trip ideas that gets more real the more rungs on the ladder you climb. The first rung? Plane tickets. The second rung? Single film festival tickets. The third rung, if you get lucky? Relatives to host. When all the rungs were complete, we sort of both had a “Oh shit, I guess this is actually happening” moment.

I’m so happy we went. We arrived on the 23rd with six screenings purchased—a solid array of documentaries and narrative features. Our hope was also to wait-list for a bunch of our preferred screenings, which had been “sold out” due to all of the pass-holders pre-selecting.

DAY ONE

Within an hour of making it to my cousin Mati and Brianna’s house we were off to Park City. Our sights were set on a Gregg Araki movie called “I Want Your Sex”, which seemed like one of the hottest (but maybe most unrealistic) tickets to get. After leaving our car at a park-and-ride, taking the shuttle to Main St., and running into Michael Strassner, one of the main stars of last year’s indie film “The Baltimorons”, we chilled at a bar to get some food before the wait-list opened. In pure beginner’s luck fashion, I somehow got the top wait-list spot and we were on our way to the Eccles Theater to get in line to watch our movie.

We almost weren’t able to get in because the service around the theater was atrocious, but just in the nick of time, the service was found and we were seated for our first movie.

1. “I Want Your Sex” (dir. Gregg Araki)

   Everything I expected to see in a Gregg Araki movie. A vibrant color palette, plenty of pop culture references, and a sex-forward plot with a subtle and not-so subtle critique of the art world and sexual dynamics via 90 minutes of satire. It was awesome to be in such a big theater surrounded the palpable excitement of 1200 moviegoers and a blessing to witness a Q&A with the cast and the director after the film.

Upon returning to my cousin’s home after a delicious Mexican dinner at “La Iguana”, we stayed up late talking to them about previous Sundance experiences and movies and movies and more movies.

DAY TWO

Our second day was spent entirely in Salt Lake City—a three-movie slate at two theaters, The Rose Wagner Theater and Broadway Centre Cinemas.

2. “Paralyzed by Hope: The Maria Bamford Story” (dir. Judd Apatow and Neil Berkeley)

   I knew nothing about Maria Bamford going into this documentary and I’m both sad that I didn’t, but elated that I got to know her through the course of the following two hours. I was impressed at the breadth and directness at which they explored her life, upbringing, and her struggles with mental health. She was so unafraid to share her past and current darkest moments, all the while telling some really, really funny jokes. This was my favorite of the six films we saw.

A short break back at the house.

3. “La Cazadora” (The Huntress) (dir. Suzanne Andrews Correa)

   A brutal look at a mother who decides to take matters into her own hands, while facing the constant fear of losing her daughter to the rampant disappearances in Juarez, Mexico. A good-looking, intense movie that I felt was tonally flat.

4. “Lady” (dir. Olive Nwosu)

   In the first ten minutes or so I found myself very drawn into this account of a female taxi driver in the middle of a fuel-shortage crisis in Lagos, Nigeria. The production was great. It was beautifully shot. The script, however, which follows ‘Lady’ as she gets a job transporting night women to their destinations, did not match the other excellent production aspects, which was disappointing.

Went back to the house to get some rest before our very early day back in Park City for a 9 am screening!

DAY THREE

A 6:30 am wake up call. Breakfast. A swift drive to the parking lot right next to the theater. A bus that went in the wrong direction. A trip to Starbucks (no I didn’t buy anything). And finally, lining up in the heated tent (it was below 20 degrees outside) to head into our first show!

5. “Cookie Queens” (dir. Alyssa Nahmias)

   Another beautiful doc about four young girls navigating the exhausting life of being a girl-scout (introduced by Meghan Markle, who was a producer on the film). This production, out of the six we saw, was the cleanest and most effective. The girls, hailing from Chino and San Diego, California, El Paso, Texas, and Charlotte, North Carolina all fought through plenty of adversity to reach their goals for the girl-scout cookie season, needing to hit a certain number in six weeks time. The battles were diverse—high expectations and pushy parents, waning energy due to Diabetes, being in the shadow of two older sisters, and being potentially too ambitious in a lower-income home and in a city that’s struggling to thrive in a post-COVID reality. My second favorite film. Another great Q&A where all the girls were in attendance.

Our biggest break between movies. We moseyed around Main Street a little bit, seeing Sean Wang, the director of one of my favorite 2024 movies, “Didi”, and getting some lunch at a cafe trying to finagle which final movie we hoped to see during our last day. While trudging through the Reddit threads to see if I could find any deals and get on some wait-lists, we saw Rob Morgan, one of the two leads from “Frank & Louis”, which was one of the films we hoped to see. Unfortunately, I didn’t have as good of luck getting on the wait-list for “Frank and Louis”, but I did manage to snag tickets to “Once Upon A Time in Harlem”, a documentary which was on both of our radars.

The hours passed spending time at a bookstore and catching up on the Patriots vs. Broncos game, which the Patriots ended up winning. The Seahawks won later in the day setting up a SB rematch.

6. “Once Upon A Time in Harlem” (dir. William Greaves)

   How often do we get the opportunity to speak and listen to important members of a cultural movement, who at the time might not have received the notoriety and publicity that other, more notable figures did? “Once Upon A Time in Harlem” explores this question, following the Harlem Renaissance and some of it’s lesser-known characters in the world of art, journalism, criticism, and much more. They might not possess the names of a Langston Hughes or a Marcus Garvey or W.E.B. Dubois, but they knew them and were no less important. (We saw Barry Jenkins, the director of “Moonlight,” during the Q&A).

I didn’t think that my three favorite movies at Sundance would be documentaries, but I was perfectly content knowing that that were the case. Clarize and I got back on the road to Salt Lake City, both fatigued from the three days, but also feeling like we could have easily stayed for the duration of the festival, parking ourselves at the movie theater to listen to and watch more awesome stories.

We were spoiled that evening (and the evening before) with Mati and Brianna’s wonderful cooking that included butternut squash lasagna, spinach salad with pecans, and cheesy beans and if that weren’t enough, two types of cakes and french toast in the morning. Mati and Brianna, if you’re reading this and I’m creating unfair expectations for future guests, I’ll delete this, immediately. The point is we were grateful!

Monday morning was our return back to Seattle (Clarize) and L.A. (me). We had already started listening to the newest episode of “The Rewatchables”, one of our favorite podcasts, feeling satisfied after a Sundance weekend well spent.

CLASSES

Scene Study

This month I started a scene study class. While the teacher is not Karl Bury, the man who I’d recommend everyone take classes from if they are interested in acting and scene study (he’s based in New York), it is a good teacher that I like and I am happy to be back in that environment of practicing, learning the craft, and putting the work on stage.

CHOICES

Running

With the clock ticking in mid-January and a decision on the horizon, I elected not to run in the May Brooklyn Half-Marathon. My body has been slow to fully recover from all the miles last year and the two bouts of sickness (which seems to be floating around, still) in the last couple of months. I was really excited to run and try to set a half-marathon PR and qualify for some other races, but I think the wisest thing for me to do is feel better going into the San Diego Marathon in May. I’ve run 13 times this month and I’m trying out something (which may be a little stupid) where I run less during the week, 3-4 times, but don’t run anything less than 6.2 miles (10K). We’ll see how long that lasts.

Spanish

I’ve been trying to start writing my diary entries in Spanish, as a way to practice Spanish, while I still look for more speaking opportunities (there are some on the way). It was one of my hopes and resolutions for this year to improve my Spanish and speak it more often. I think this will be a good start, although I notice that self-expression is much more challenging in a second language. I’m finding it harder to go as in-depth.

Share The Decluttering

THE NEVER ENDING SEARCH FOR STABILITY

Subbing

Who would have thought that LAUSD, the second biggest public school district in America, would have a “shortage” of subbing work? Well, there has been. It’s been a bit of a struggle finding consistent subbing work out in L.A. and I’ve started to think about other possible work options.

Housing

I’ve been incredibly lucky (and grateful) to be able to stay at my auntie’s while I find a place that’s best for me. The search continues.

Acting

While I did audition for some things last year, I wasn’t able to snag the jobs, unfortunately. I’m looking forward to the acting and performance opportunities that I receive and create while I find my footing back on the West Coast. The dream of being in feature films and TV shows and acting on stage is still alive and well.

Writing

I don’t want to be too precious about what I’m working on, but just know that I have been writing and these projects will see the light, sooner rather than later.

SOLIDARITY

It’s hard to know where the best place to put one’s attention is nowadays, especially with the way social media inundates our algorithms. (I know a simple remedy could be to eliminate all social media, but it is always way harder than it seems). The world is filled with horrors, atrocities, and injustices that all deserve attention and response. The ICE situation is just one of the many troubling and ongoing events that we cannot turn away from and I do not believe that calling ICE the modern-day Gestapo is misdirected or incorrect. I stand with all of the people fighting, protesting against, and resisting these dark forces that are trying to steal people away from their families, killing innocent civilians, and terrorizing communities in Minnesota and across the nation. This is simply not right. My hope is that the current administration and regime is stopped as soon as possible.

Sending love to all.

I’m not sure if these lists provide any specific sort of revelation, other than unlocking some sort of far-away box in my brain, full from over-hoarding, that needs to be released every now and then. Along with the doubling (if not tripling) down of my participation in the visual intake of all things, a parallel could be drawn to an undiagnosed ADHD, which has only intensified for me post-COVID. The whole concept of de-cluttering, which upon further reflection seems like a clunky name for a blog (and one which I’ll probably change soon), is to create that sensation one might feel after cleaning their room—consolidating, organizing, and, ultimately, getting rid of.

I wonder what are some habits I’ve left behind and what are some new ones I need to focus/re-focus on. Speaking Spanish, writing every day, and acting scene study, among other things. This always seems to happen during the last days of a year, watching the clock move, being reminded that another revolution is coming to a close, trying to stay optimistic that a reset exists, but trying not to get caught up in the empty glass, the reminder that another year has passed and we do not get it back.

So, without further ado, here are some lists—from food to music, from movies to books, from hopeful destinations to new year’s resolutions. If you’ve never eaten, listened, seen, or experienced these, do yourself a favor and give them a try! And, if you have any recommendations of your own, please let me know! And, and—if there are activities or pieces of these lists for the upcoming year that you’d like to join in on in some form or fashion (or whatever the case may be), let’s do it! All numbered lists are numbered for a reason and all lists without are done so out of respect.

10 Favorite movies from 2025:

One Battle After Another
The Secret Agent
Sinners
Marty Supreme
Sentimental Value
28 Years Later
Eddington
It Was Just an Accident
Sorry, Baby
Black Bag

5 Honorable Mentions:

Hamnet
Roofman
F1
If I Had Legs I’d Kick You
The Baltimorons

10 Movies on my watchlist that I still have to see from 2025:

Train Dreams
Blue Moon
Warfare
Urchin
Nouvelle Vague
The Mastermind
Bugonia
No Other Choice
The Testament of Ann Lee
Avatar: Fire and Ash

10 of my Favorite first-time watches at home:

The Shop Around the Corner (1940)
Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974)
Papillon (1973)
The Driver (1978)
Point Blank (1967)
The Runner (1984)
Another Year (2010)
Cold War (2018)
High Hopes (1988)
Birth (2004)

20 of my Favorite first-time watches at the movie theater:

Reds (1981)
The Godfather Part II (1974) - Repeat
Ratatouille (2007) - Repeat
Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
Toy Story (1995) - Repeat
Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair (2006)
Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971) - Repeat
Michael Clayton (2007) - Repeat
Heat (1995) - Repeat
Pinocchio (1940) - Repeat
Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) - Repeat
Seven Samurai (1954)
Clueless (1995) - Repeat
Before Sunrise / Before Sunset (1995 / 2004) - Repeat
Ran (1985)
Donnie Darko (2001) - Repeat
Nights of Cabiria (1957)
What’s Up, Doc (1972)
The Silence of the Lambs (1991) - Repeat
Casablanca (1942) - Repeat

*Repeat signifies a movie I had seen already, just not in the theater

5 Favorite movie houses in Los Angeles:

1. The Egyptian (American Cinematheque)
2. The Vista
3. David Geffen Theater (Academy Museum)
4. New Beverly
5. Fine Arts Theater

10 Favorite (Food) Spots in Seattle:

Cafe Paloma
Un Bien
Mojitos
Local Tide
Shiro’s Sushi
Zaina
Dick’s
Bongos
Bagel Oasis
Kin Len

5 Favorite sandwiches in Seattle:

Chicken Breast Sandwich from Un Bien (Ballard)
Chicken Gyros from Zaina (Lake City)
Reuben from Market House Meats (Downtown)
Desi Sandwich from Bongos (Greenlake)
The Voodoo from Tubs Subs (Bothell)

5 Favorite Teriyaki spots in Seattle:

1. Midori Teriyaki (Downtown)
2. Ichi Roll (Greenwood)
3. Nikko Teriyaki (West Seattle)
4. Sunny Teriyaki (Ballard)
5. Toshi’s Teriyaki (Mill Creek)

3 Most anticipated Teriyaki to try in Seattle:

1. Rainier Teriyaki (Mt. Baker)
2. “Ichiban Teriyaki (Kenmore)
3. Yoshino Teriyaki (Downtown)

5 (Food) Spots in Seattle that I miss:

Guidos Pizza
Brad’s Swingside Cfe
Boulangerie
Teriyaki 1st
Chow’s (sp?)

10 Favorite foods/plates/dishes in New York:

Jerk Chicken Plate from Wat’s On Your Plate
Veggie Combo from Abyssinia
Wonton Soup from Great NY Noodle Town
Veggie plate from Punjabi Deli
Chicken Burrito from Zaragoza
Tacos from Taqueria Ramirez
Chocolate Chip Cookie from Culture Espresso
Doubles from Ali’s Roti Shop
My list of pizza (inquire within)
My list of bagels (inquire within)

9 Favorite fast to fast-ish food in Los Angeles:

The #s 3, 4, and 5 sandwiches at Larchmont Village Wine, Spirits & Cheese
Hot Tongue Pizza
Taco Truck in front of the Pavilion’s on Melrose
Maury’s Bagels
Most sandwiches from Hy Mart
Pad See Ew / Pad Thai from Thai Patio
Breakfast Burrito from Cafe Los Feliz
Leo’s Tacos
Pop’s Chicken (shout out to Jackson)

Honorable Mentions (the not-so-fast, but kinda fast):

Sunday Special from Dulan’s
Salsa & Beer

10 Books I want to read in 2026:

Skid Road by Murray Morgan
Heart the Lover by Lily King
Angela Davis: An Autobiography
Salt, Fat, Acid, and Heat by Samin Nosrat
Adventures in the Screen Trade by William Goldman
On Beauty by Zadie Smith
The Emperor of Gladness by Ocean Vuong
Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
Mercury Pictures Presents by Anthony Marra
The Overstory by Richard Powers

10 of my favorite songs from 2025 (but not recorded in 2025):

“I Can’t Make You Love Me” by Bonnie Raitt
“Sultans of Swing” by Dire Straits
“Tomorrow Is a Long Time” by Bob Dylan
“Homesickness” by Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru
“God Moving Over the Face of Water” by Moby
“Are We the Waiting” by Green Day
“Moment in Time” by The Pharcyde
“We Will Become Silhouettes” by The Postal Service
“Early in the Morning” by The Gap Band
“West End Blues” by Louis Armstrong

The Marathons/Half-Marathons on the 2026 docket:

RBC Brooklyn Half
San Diego Marathon (with my sister!)
Twin Cities Marathon

10 Classes I want to take in 2026:

Scene Study
Screenwriting
Improv
Swimming
Dance
Cooking
Piano
Voice
Voiceover
[another one to be placed here]

5 Places around the world I’d like to visit one day:

Hawaii
Japan
Australia
Egypt
About 100 different places in Mexico

10 Activities that bring me joy that I’d like to do more of in 2026:

Speaking Spanish
Reading
Writing in any and all forms and mediums
Volunteering
Basketball
Batting Cages / Baseball
Hiking
Whale Watching
Spending as much time as possible with family and friends
Acting

5 Activities I want to reduce in 2026 (marked by biggest time suck activity):

Being on my phone (screen time)
Being on my computer (YouTube)
Drinking alcohol (Beer and Tequila)
Social Media (Instagram / Letterboxd / Facebook / Strava)
Running Away (I don’t have time to explain this one)

3 New Activities to try in 2026:

Podcast (maybe?)
Script collaboration
Documenting my acting journey via scene study

10 Hopefuls in 2026 (especially in no order):

A political revolution
World Peace
A Seattle Mariners World Series
An announcement that the Seattle Supersonics will return
The disappearance of AI
A renaissance of reality
The eradication of Global Warming
A commitment to focus, an avoidance of distractions
Building good habits, gradually erasing the bad ones
[Your hopeful goes here]

May your 2026 be fruitful, full of love, full of peace, and full of growth.

Happy New Year!

As Major League Baseball readies itself for the second half of the season, I feel ready to make a declaration on behalf of my hometown Seattle Mariners: this is our year.

Maybe I have only my laziness and insanity to blame for this bold proclamation. The truth is, I wanted to make that statement at the beginning of the year for no other reason than it’s what Seattle Mariner fans say every year. I mean, it’s got to come true one of these days, right?

If history is to be our guide, then the quick and dirty would be, “No.” It doesn’t have to come true, especially for the Mariners, who have a case to make for being one of the sorriest major sport franchises next to the Jets and the Knicks. (Yes, yes, low hanging fruit for all of my New York readers, but if you have any connection to this team at all then you’d know that there is no lie.) Due to our lack of spending thanks to a cheap ownership group, which has trickled down to a general manager who is strapped for options, the Mariners are always set up to overachieve. Now, if you look hard enough, if you sift long enough through the sea of Mariner fans, you might get lucky and find an optimist. “Good farm system, good pitching staff, hey, we can even put some runs on the board this year (just not when there are runners in scoring position).” Sadly, uttering lunacy such as “this is our year”, is often considered delusion. Why on earth would I say the Mariners are gonna win the World Series this year, unless I was making a joke, pulling a prank, or just being facetious?

Once I missed my chance to write this at the beginning of the year, I thought I wouldn’t have a chance to write it again in 2025 because we started off so damn hot, winning series after series after series. It’s easy to say we’re gonna win the whole damn thing when we’re winning. I would have looked like a frontrunner, although I’m not sure anyone would have believed me anyway.

Yeah, OK.

Just give it time.

These are the Mariners.

Then we came back to earth with one of those classic Mariner slides that usually come in August and September—a string of series losses and bad play that ultimately leads us to miss a playoff spot by a game or two, as it’s happened the past couple of years. Though it was early, we were up by so many games. The Astros, the principal nemesis and our bitter rivals, seemed mediocre and injury bitten. This was uncharacteristic. When I tell you that when our slide happened it felt like I blinked and we were behind the Astros by a bajillion games. OK, maybe not a bajillion, but it felt like a lot. How did this happen? When did this happen? How were the Astros suddenly good again?

Before the last two series pre-All-Star-Break, it felt like the Astros were the hottest team in baseball. It felt like they couldn’t lose. Every time we’d win, giving ourselves another chance to close the gap—no dice, the Astros would win again. Some games ago, we played the lowly Pittsburgh Pirates and swept them at home, not allowing a single run. It didn’t matter that the Pirates weren’t good; summer was kicking in and with three games a piece on the road against the New York Yankees and Detroit Tigers, it figured to give us some much needed momentum before a daunting stretch.

Well, the Mariners proceeded to get shelled by the Yankees in subsequent games—not the start of the road trip that we were hoping for—but nothing was worse than the third game. In the third game our ace, Bryan Woo, was throwing a no hitter through seven innings. Woo, the whole year has been lights out, throwing at least six innings in every one of his starts. Unfortunately, Jazz Chisholm broke up his no-hit bid, and despite the Mariners owning a 5-0 lead, the next three innings were a shit show. The Mariners most daunting relievers, the normal 8th inning set-up guy, Matt Brash, and the unstoppable closer, Andres Munoz, blew the lead and gave up five runs, which included a home run to Giancarlo Stanton and a tying hit by Austin Wells in the ninth. At that point, the sinking feelings in our stomachs had a feeling of what might happen next, and in the tenth inning, Aaron Judge hit a sacrifice fly to center field off of Gabe Speier to send the Yankees to victory, the final nail in what was surely the most demoralizing loss of the Mariners season. This is the last thing we needed going into the final road trip before the midsummer break, especially when we were set to play the best team in the American League next, the Detroit Tigers, with the first game coming against their ace, Tarik Skubal. Yet, silently, there was some consolation—the Astros had recently been swept by the Guardians and the Mariners were still clinging to that final wild card spot. I guess not all was lost.

It sure wasn’t.

The next three games felt like a bit of an anomaly. They proceeded to dismantle the Tigers with an incredible offensive display, scoring 12, 15, and 8 runs, respectively. 35 runs in three games, 15 of which came in the ninth innings. With the Rangers taking two of three from the Astros, the Mariners were going into the All-Star Game sitting five games behind the Astros in the division and holding a 1.5 game lead over the Rays for the final wild-card spot.

Now, let’s go over some more numbers. 38 and 82. 38 home runs and 82 RBIs from Cal Raleigh, the Mariners captain, clubhouse leader, and All-Star starting catcher with the best nickname in the game, “The Big Dumper.” A lot of things can be said about Cal, most of which I’m sure has already been covered by local and national press. Where to start? Well, his 38 home runs were the most by any American League baseball player ever before the All-Star break, trailing only steroid—ahem—trailing only Barry Bonds by one home run for the most all time. While the face of the Mariners was appointed to center fielder Julio Rodriguez when he burst onto the scene, it is no question that Cal is the heart and soul. He was the one who sent the Mariners to the playoffs in 2022 with his winning home run during the last game of the season. He recently signed a six year contract for a significant hometown discount. He loves Seattle. He wants to be in Seattle. There was a recent video in which Cal was told the news by manager and former Mariner great, Dan Wilson, (who made an all-star team in 1996) that he would be the starter in the All-Star game. It’s a great video made greater by the fact that Cal, humble as always, graciously accepts the news and ends his speech by saying, “But, I think it’s gonna be a lot more fun in October to win a World Series with you guys.” It’s hard to put into words what it means when the soul of your team has that type of focus, isn’t distracted by individual (though deserved) accolades, and has his sights set on the bigger picture. Columnist Jeff Passan noted as much in a recent interview with local radio, saying that at the beginning of the season, Cal went into the front office, in full uniform, to get a sense of everything the team was doing, what moves they were thinking of making, to give us the best chance to win a World Series. He wanted to know if we were setting ourselves up for success.

Then what did Cal do for us? He proceeded to be a rising star of the All-Star game, winning the Home-Run Derby alongside his dad and brother, further putting the Mariners on the map on a national scale. There’s been a lot of MVP talk recently and I assume it will continue if Cal continues to lead the Mariners to a playoff spot (and hopefully, as he said, to October). If the MVP talk from pundits and analysts alike wasn’t shining a bright enough spotlight, then a quote from Cal’s biggest MVP competition, Aaron Judge shined it the brightest. “He’s managing two swings being a switch-hitter. He’s managing a pitching staff—of the best staffs in the American League—to do all of that and continue to go out there and post every day, put up the numbers, hit the homers, it’s fun to watch.” Quite the tip of the cap by the Yankees captain, especially on the heels of a soul-snatching defeat just a week ago.

Where does that leave us? Hopefully it leaves us with a full plate of optimism. The challenges and the tests will waste no time in presenting themselves. Our first opponent coming off of the break? None other than the Houston Astros themselves for a three game series at home. Sure it’s mid-July, but with 66 games left to play, each game and each series becomes that much more vital. As my Dad, a diehard Mariners fan and occasional Mariners optimist has echoed this year, “This team likes each other.” And it’s true. You can tell there is a good thing going in the clubhouse. I don’t think there’s any better indicator of this than the way they responded to the Yankees loss with a Tigers sweep. It also makes the upcoming trade deadline that much more interesting. You want to make a move or two that will make us better and help us contend, but you also want to be careful to not disrupt whatever good thing going you have inside the locker room. I know I and all of the players, especially Cal, will be eager to see what transpires.

No matter how much of a fan I think I am, I know my dad is the real investor. He continues to go to plenty of games every year with the hope that this year’s iteration can take us to the promised land. He’s taught me just about everything I know, baseball-wise. 90 percent of my behavior (maybe more) at a Mariner game is owed to him. Pay attention to the game. Don’t bother to look at the Hydro Challenge or the Hidden Ball Challenge. Pay attention to the game. Get excited when good things happen. And audibly express disappointment and frustration when good things don’t. I think the 10 percent he’s not responsible for are my verbal quips and spirited heckles to Mariner and non-Mariner players alike when they suck. A good way to get me to talk is to bat less than .200 (if you’re a Mariner) or to be the best player on the opposing team (Mike Trout, Bobby Witt) or cheater (all Astros).

My dad’s indefatigable hope and optimism are what gets me through a season. Luckily, growing up in Seattle and having best friends that also grew up Mariner fans, I am flanked by a strong supporting cast. Every Mariner fan needs a Mariner texting thread. I wonder if I’ve been on mine for too long. I’m not sure if I’m solely responsible, but I think there’s a couple of my guys that I’ve soured from years of Mariner criticism, pessimism, fury, and hopelessness. The entertainment from watching one of them say “I’m done with this team” to “I’m back!” to “I hate ‘em” is pure cinema. All in a day’s work. Another one I’m thinking of off the top of my head had never uttered anything negative about any part of the organization in years past. He led with hope. This year, I learned he is human. Sometimes he says things that make me wonder if he and I have switched roles, ha!

It’s so easy to revert back to the numbers when talking about this team, but sometimes the questions yield the most striking absences.

How long have we been an organization? How many times have we made the playoffs? How many teams have never made a World Series? What’s the furthest we’ve been in the playoffs? What percent of games do we need to win during the season to make the playoffs? What is John Stanton’s net worth? What is our payroll? What is it ranked league wide? What is our profit and revenue as an organization? How does that rank league wide?

The rabbit hole of Seattle Mariners fandom is never-ending. It’s easy to let that negative spiral get the best of us, certainly more often than I choose to say nice things about my favorite team. I’m guilty of it. In reality, for as much misery as they have provided for 162 games during the majority of my years, they do provide quite the amount of joy. A Mariners hat. A Mariners jersey. A Griffey shirt. An Edgar shirt. A ’95 clip. A 2001 season memory. Looking back at all the Father’s Days and non Father’s Days I’ve spent with my dad and other family and friends at the ballpark. All the kielbasas from Al’s Gourmet. Whether it’s healthy or not, the Mariners possess a part of my soul. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself the day we play in a World Series. I’ve been stripped of that dream by many a pinstripe and by many a garbage can. I’m on record saying that I could probably only get myself to go to a Mariners World Series game if it was a clinching game and one that they were guaranteed to win. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. My most recent Mariners playoff memory was watching Roger Clemens one-hit us back in Game 4 of the 2000 ALCS. As much as it hurts to think about, I have some friends who were at Game 3 of the ALDS a few years ago in 2022 and watched all 18 innings only to see us lose 1-0 to the eventual World Series champion Astros. It didn’t take long for social media to remind Mariner fans (and baseball fans everywhere) that the Mariners haven’t scored a run at home in the playoffs since 2001. I was nine going on ten in 2001. I’m turning 34 soon.

Like I said earlier, it’s easy to let that negativity sink in, however, just the other day, one of my best friends had a baby boy. I can’t wait to meet him. I’m so overjoyed to consider this kid my nephew and I hope that I can be a great uncle and attend a few Mariner games with him when he gets older. I can’t wait to tell this kid that I grew up playing with and against his dad. We had many a catch. I watched his Dad pitch one of the best games I’ve ever seen in the blistering cold. A complete game in the snow. I don’t know how his arm didn’t fall off. I look forward to this kid growing up a Mariner fan, as I’m sure he will be, knowing the type of fan his father is. As Cal Raleigh is quick to remind us—this is a special team, a special organization, a special history. We might not have the hardware to show for it yet, but people like Cal, people like my Dad, my Mariner friends and brothers in arms, my nephew and his father, generations of fans who wound around the Kingdome, stepped into the marine layer of Safeco, and continue to scan their tickets to pass into T-Mobile...they know it’s coming.

This is our year.

And if it isn’t, then next year will be.

I took a look at Steph Curry highlights…

on the internet the other day and quickly found myself on a YouTube rabbit hole watching the best sharpshooter the game of basketball has ever seen’s most ridiculous shots, games, and moves. A magician with the rock, a singular player—someone who could keep the ball on a string, weave his way through multiple defenders or find himself on any point of the court and have a realistic chance of putting the ball in the basket. If that journey didn’t leave me in enough of a wonderland I saw some “recommended for you” videos that encouraged me to head down another path following LeBron James, the game’s all-time leading scorer and arguably sports’ greatest symbol of greatness and longevity. I used to be a LeBron hater, but the older I get and the more I’m aware of my own mortality, whether I’m stiff after a long run or tight after a spontaneous game of pick-up, I can’t help but shake my head and tip my cap at what he’s been able to do, at the level he’s been able to do it (and continues to be able to do it) at 40 years old, 22 years down the road, long enough for him to play in a game with his own son, the first to do so in the NBA’s long and storied history.

At 33 years old,

I am astounded at how healthy Lebron has been and how rarely he misses significant chunks of the regular season after he finds himself perpetually in deep runs of the post season. The physical tax on the body! While he has missed more games lately (understandably so in his age 35-40 seasons), it is nonetheless impressive. He seemed invincible for so long. Then again, spending one-million-dollars-plus every year to keep his body functioning at the highest possible level seems like a no brainer when you’re a billionaire. There is a cost to be considered one of the games GOATs (aka Greatest of All Time). My third option of entertainment was a lineup of Kevin Durant videos. No matter the title I’m aware that these would be less flashy videos than the aforementioned counterparts. They lack the flair of Steph and the force of LeBron. No, no, these Durant videos would be clinical, like watching a surgeon go to work. A machine. Sizing up smaller defenders. Finding a litter of spots from the elbows to the three-point line. Jab steps. Crosss-overs. Fade-aways. Rising up. His reach always higher than the outstretched contests of desperate hands. Alien in the ways he can break the opposition down with a long unforeseen blend of size (nearing seven feet) and a handle of a smaller guard. Though the videos might not be as sexy, they hurt all the more, for every splash of the net is a never-ending pour of salt in a never-healing wound. Lost time. Stolen memories. Dream scenarios of what might have been.

After the most recent summer Olympics…

in which the USA took home gold and with all these players in the twilight of their NBA careers (famous last words—I could see LeBron playing until he’s 50), all of them members of more or less of the same basketball generation, you’d be hard pressed to mention one without mentioning the others. It was one of the aspects that made the Olympics so intriguing and must-watch; it might have been the last time we basketball lovers could see them all play together in one of the most competitive settings (don’t fool yourself All-Star Games) and on a court for the final time. As it stands now, the NBA playoffs are set to begin today. The Lakers and LeBron are the #3 seed and have a week off, looking like a power-house threat in a loaded West after their late-season acquisition of superstar Luka Doncic. The Warriors, with the #7 seed, who looked like a serious threat post Jimmy Butler trade, have stumbled in the past week and now, after fumbling a “golden” opportunity at a higher seed, will have to claw their way in via the play-in bracket. Meanwhile, Kevin Durant, finds himself in a familiar situation as of late, on the outside looking in, recently injured, and the subject of trade rumors instead of secure on a legit, contending team promising to make some noise. What does his future hold?

Unfortunately,

he will have to watch Steph and LeBron, both of whom have four titles, control their own destinies. In Seattle, the old Key Arena, now named Climate Pledge Arena, will remain empty for yet another postseason. Though the Seattle Storm has given the city much to be excited about with four titles in 2004, 2010, 2018, and 2020 (they’ve never lost in the Finals), fans of the NBA will be left waiting with promises of a potential return. In the past five years or so there were two specific hurdles fans of the Sonics had eagerly awaited for the league to get past: the first, a new media rights deal, completed in 2024, and the second, the sale of the Boston Celtics, which occurred this year. We, the basketball fans, wonder: what will be asked to wait for now? Whenever Adam Silver, the current commissioner of the NBA holds a press conference to address the latest state of the league, he seems to mention us as an immaterial nuisance. We wonder when the return of the Sonics will be so financially appealing that it will be a topic that he can longer ignore. It is widely agreed that the most logical (and likely) cities that will gain expansion teams will be Seattle and Las Vegas (too much money to be had). That’s all good and well, but it certainly feels like Seattle and its storied history have been relegated to basketball purgatory since their ugly and messy departure in 2008. A footnote. Silver certainly likes to dangle those key words like “Seattle” and “return” and “soon”, but it really does feel like a broken record of “you’re not a priority and can wait a little longer—you’ve already waited 17 years, what’s a couple more?”

17 long years.

LeBron James played five years as a Cavalier before the Sonics left. He played four games at the Key Arena. Kevin Durant played his rookie season for the Sonics, their last season in Seattle. We know this well. Steph Curry, who arrived on the scene in 2009, currently in his 16th season, has not played a single game in the Key Arena. Sometimes, I teach high schoolers as a substitute. It never ceases to amaze me when I see their dates of birth. 2007. 2008. 2009. They tell me, “I just turned 16” or 17 or 18. It makes me feel old. And it makes me feel sad, especially when I learn that they are basketball fans when they, like me, have never had the opportunity to see Steph play in Seattle. If they were a baby back during the 2007-2008 season, I doubt they would have found themselves at the Key to watch Kevin Durant play, nor did they have the chance to watch him develop in later years into the lanky, lethal sniper that he is today. They never got to see LeBron in those early days before he became the L-Train and the fully blossomed superstar he is now (though 2007 LeBron at 22 was really a sight to behold—if you’re curious just look up the playoff game against Detroit). In other words, the Seattle youth of today, as well as all the 253’ers, 425’ers, 509’ers and fellow Washingtonians have missed an entire basketball generation. This feels like one of the great tragedies to have befallen a city and state with such a strong fan base and rich basketball history. What’s more, and I could be wrong, but basketball is embedded in the states’ blood as much, if not more so, than football. I get there is certainly an argument for the Seahawks, Huskies/Cougars, and HS football, but when the Sonics were here and the Huskies were hooping, and the constant and never-waning gift that is Seattle HS basketball was churning out college and NBA prospects left-and-right, it was a sight to see.

The Sonics’ absence left a void…

that has grown and festered as we’ve been forced to watch what used to be our team, the Thunder of Oklahoma City, develop into a legit threat to win the NBA finals this year and years to come. With Huskies basketball being in the dawg house (har har), we only have Metro high school games (no disrespect to other conferences or divisions) to keep us entertained with top-notch basketball. Can Rainier Beach and Garfield just play each other ten times a year? Essentially, as long as the Thunder remain ultra-competitive at the top of the Western Conference and the favorites to win it all and as long as Climate Pledge Arena (it’ll always be the Key, just ask Laker fans if they call Staples Center crypto arena) remains empty, it will contuse to feel like we’re just barely prolonging the inevitable. We dodged multiple bullets during the KD-Westbrook-Harden years, but the basketball gods can only do us so many favors. This iteration of the Thunder feels different. This team will probably win and the Seattle clouds that hung over Durant and Westbrook seem to be parting with a different, more formidable storm here to stay. I might be alone in this thinking, but the blow will feel a little lesser if OKC were to win when the Sonics have returned. It’ll still sting, but there will be something about the ability to go to the Key Arena and shout and scream at the top of our lungs against the villains of OKC, so that the newly returned SUPER-SONICS of SEATTLE can get a win that will feel liberating. That might feel like the first step in restoring the order. For now, I’ll be left lamenting that we never got to send off the Seattle basketball ambassador, Jamal Crawford, and watch him ride off into the sunset at the home arena in the city that he gave so much to. Nor Jason Terry. No much-deserved home-coming for Isaiah Thomas at the arena that he watched so many games before ascending into a superstar. No seeing the new generation lend their gifts to the record books. No Paolo Banchero and Dejounte Murray. Jaden and Jalen McDaniels. Zach Lavine or Kevin Porter, Jr. At least with them there’s still time.

But until then, here’s to next year.

The first couple of weeks…

back substitute teaching have been, shall we say, choppy? I’ve taken assignments at six different schools with the hope that I’ll be able to return to one or a couple in an increased capacity and accept an extended or long term sub position. Back in the 2022-2023 school year I got a taste of what being a “real” sub might have been like, teaching lessons and what not, but lately I’ve assumed a variety of different roles. More or less, they consist of:

1. taking a break and hanging out in the staff lounge

2. taking a break and hanging out in the classroom with the head teacher

3. taking attendance and telling kids to look at their assigned work in Google classroom

4. sitting in the front of the room while they follow all directions/instructions

5. sitting in the front of the room while they ignore all directions/instructions

You get the idea.

I think it’ll probably take a while for me to find the right spot. Back in 2021 when I first started substitute teaching I sort of lucked out and fell into the ideal situation with a school that called me back for the rest of the year. Besides, it makes more sense that a school would put a new sub through a trial or two to see how they handle the students and the teacher’s instruction. Still, every school provides more than a wonderful moment…or two…or three. And some not so wonderful.

The first school I worked at…

the one that was supposed to be for the entire week, lasted only a day for one particular reason. I stepped into the main office asked the assistant administrative secretary some questions regarding where I could find a time card, if there were any plans left by the teacher, etc. Every question I proposed was met with an aversion that made me feel like I was a complete idiot for asking them. Even the other staff members in the room were a bit confused as to why my inquiries were treated with such distaste and disrespect. I didn’t need any more of a nudge to convince myself that I wasn’t going to be working at the school for the rest of the week. I suppose that’s the freedom of trying to find the right place.

The highlight or lowlight was taking on the role of security guard or “the guy who stands and looks imposing and just stands there to make sure hell doesn’t break loose” during lunch. I think it was an hour and a half in total. I wore a puffer and a blank face. I succeeded in pretty much being invisible. I wish I had listened to a podcast. The hilarious part of the way this school was set-up was you had high schoolers and middle schoolers in the lunch room at the same time, middle on one side and high on the other (not uncommon for schools with grades 6-12). It was an opportunity to see two different worlds, a cafeteria split into two very opposing levels of maturity. On the middle school side—chaos. Stray vegetables, garbage littered to the side, high pitched screams seemingly out of nowhere, friend groups on their computers battling against one another, and kids banging on the tables either in frustration or because they didn’t know what else to do with their emotions. The high schoolers were the opposite side of the spectrum. Quiet (or quieter), more clumped together, sedated and unbothered and mostly on their phones. Their response to clean-up was delayed but followed, whereas the middle schoolers’ response was delayed but disregarded.

The only conversation I was semi-privy to was a heated discussion amongst a table of middle school girls who, at times, were unconsciously playing with the decibel meter to see if they could break it. It was a sewing circle regarding which boys were cute and which boys they liked and, I’ll be honest, even if I had watched this program on mute, it was must-see-tv. Their reactions were priceless. Lots of eyes popping, hands over mouths, getting up from the table to whisper in someone else’s ear. The gossip was at an all time high. Somehow, the segment that struck me the most was as follows: one girl had a boy on her mind, but didn’t want to say who it was. She, of course, was being egged on to just say it, but maybe feared some level of embarrassment. Her friend/s assured her they already knew who it was, maybe to lessen the tension, but more so in an attempt to get her to give up the name. As a last resort, the one with the name agreed to whisper the name to her friend, got up, and came over to the other side of the table. Her friend received the name, eyes wide, and screamed, “WHAT!?”, jumped out of her seat, and left the cafeteria. All of the students, for a second, looked over and wondered what the hell had just happened, before resuming their own conversations, but I couldn’t help but notice the girl’s face go flush, as if she knew her secret was better kept to herself. The rest of the girls, now outside of the loop, were now more rabid than before, but the one girl had learned her lesson. When the girl who had left returned, she was grinning like she had pandora’s box and only she had the key. Conversation resumed, the girls traded names, took turns agreeing that X was cute, Y was weird, and Z was ugly. Several minutes later the name that had sent the friend out of the room was revealed with her blessing and, to her relief, to a much calmer response.

That’s the trick about middle school. Life can go from excitement to dread to relief in a matter of minutes.

There was another school,

in the heart of Chinatown, that I was very excited to teach at until I realized that the teacher never updated her Google classroom, so I played “adult in the room” the whole day and read at my desk, while the kids either completed the previous day’s work or signed into their streaming accounts and caught up on the latest series.

During the second period, after class had already started and after I had already taken attendance, this one kid busts through the door in the middle of a heated argument, but there was no other kid following him. Initially, I was going to say something but then I realized, after watching the rest of the class and the way they were responding, that maybe this was just the way this guy was and to let the situation play out. It was all a bit unclear, but it sounded like he had played someone else in basketball for money, beat him, and then never got the money he was owed. It was a strange scene. Everyone sort of held their breath and stayed still while he moved around the desks like a cyclone, his own planet in his own universe in his own orbit. I had never heard some of the curse words he bellowed put together like that before, so it was an education in that way, but then the counselor/social worker and security guard entered the room and told him to come with them. At that point he was near the window, feeding his fury to the people outside, but when he snapped back to reality he got a few more compound verbal daggers out and left, followed by the adults. There was some initial uncomfortable laughter, a comment or two, but then the class resumed as if nothing had happened.

Later on, during the period before lunch, I was told to go into the room where detention was being held. There, in the corner, sitting on the chair looking outside, was the kid who stormed into class. I acknowledged him and then quietly went to the desk on the opposite side of the room. He apologized for what had happened and I told him not to worry about it. He then explained to me the situation further, in a much more measured way, but like he couldn’t hold the information in any longer. He told me that there was indeed a kid who played him for money and that that kid didn’t pay up after he had beaten him. Incredulously, he asked why the dude would bother to do something like that when he knew the only reason he would play him to begin with was if there was money on the line. The more he talked about it the more I could hear regret that the situation got to where it had gotten and that it had entered the classroom. You could hear the shame and the embarrassment. I told him that I understood where he was coming from. I wasn’t there to judge and I certainly wasn’t going to criticize his behavior. That seemed to resonate with him. He had been used to people telling him what to do, not seeing his side, not being able to empathize and always having something to say. At a certain point, he shrugged it off. I asked him about basketball and he told me his favorite player was LeBron and his favorite team, by default, was the Lakers. I asked him if he played and he said he did. What position, I asked? “Point guard, shooting guard…I can do a little bit of everything.” We spoke for almost the entire period and I was impressed by his knowledge of the game, the status quo, and how he thought the season might turn out. He was a real fan and had a serious respect for the game he loved. It was the most fun I had all day, talking to him about the Luka trade, hearing his suspicions about potential dark dealings from Dallas. He knew his team needed a big man. When he had said all he needed to say, he got up, introduced himself, thanked me (to which I thanked him right back) and went on his way. Then it was time for lunch.

I came away from one school…

with the thought that 90 percent of New York City high schoolers could be instantaneously castable in the next high school movie or high school show. I don’t know what it is about living in this city. An advanced maturity? A heightened exposure? Obviously the time of Larry Clark / Harmony Korine’s “KIDS” is a thing of the past, but there is something in the water around here. If anything, maybe it’s a youth immersed in culture.

I think I forgot…

how big a deal Valentine’s Day is in school. From what I remember it’s all very cute in middle school. We used to have these things called candy grams (or was this for the holidays and Christmas?) that you’d receive if someone purchased one for you. It was pretty basic—a piece of paper that said ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ and were either anonymous or said who they were from and came equipped with a piece of candy. Man, if you some of those, even if it was just one, you felt like a million bucks. “Someone likes me! They really, REALLY, LIKE me!”

In high school, there is more of an initiative taken by the buyers to make a show out of the whole thing for the people they’re spoiling, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward, especially if they present the gifts in the middle of class. During my last assignment, right before mid-winter break, it was Valentine’s Day. Besides already being a little mentally checked out, as one is before you know you have a week off ahead, Valentine’s Day provided an extra dose of gaga and googly eyes. There were a few girls, in particular, who came late during second or third period because they had spent all morning trying to corral gifts for their special someones. After making a fashionably late reference, they fielded questions regarding their elaborate bags filled with goodies and you could tell they felt a certain amount of pride having taken the time to spoil whomever’s name was on their treasure.

But for me, the best and most memorable moment of the day, was when the boyfriend, who also had arrived fashionably late to pay his dues and get his presents, bashfully walked in the classroom waddling with his huge bag and holiday balloon, stepped over to his girlfriend, gave her the funniest and most awkward hug (clearly trying not to draw extra attention or make eye contact, but kinda sorta also wanting all of the attention), received his Valentine’s Day bag, and then waddled back out, grinning with his eyes, a chorus of giggles following him as the door closed. That woman felt like a queen, but also tried to avoid the heat of several sets of envious yet adoring eyes.

Young love.

One of the last assignments I did…

took place at the high school whose alum consists of Jennifer Aniston, Ellen Barkin, Adrien Brody, Timotheé Chalamet, and Al Pacino. My role was similar to the other schools, with a couple unique differences. I was tasked with being the gym sub, taking an attendance that felt like it never ended, and then being the bearer of bad news that the other gym teacher told me that he wasn’t going to allow them to play at all (too many kids to keep track of) and they were to sit down and could be on their phones and computer. Yes, they were bummed out. For the last couple of periods I was in a health classroom, which was right next to the performing arts and choir classes. When I walked by one of the choir groups singing, I’m pretty sure I saw doves fly. These kids were insanely talented and it seemed like this was something they had created themselves. That type of creativity is always awe-inspiring.

During the second of these health classes, there was a girl who showed up late. Her reason was that she was coming from another class very far away. She could have been talking about a room in New Jersey for all that I knew, but she threw her backpack down at her desk. Two minutes later she asked to go to the bathroom. Of course! With about fifteen minutes left of class I walked over to her desk, having forgotten that she had gone long before, and asked this kid with long, moppy hair if the backpack belonged to the girl that had left.

I watched as he looked at the backpack, then looked to his classmates next to him, then watched the classmates look at him to see what he would say, and heard him mutter, “No. I think that’s “yadda yadda’s” backpack.”

“I don’t think so,” I laughed. “Yadda yadda is sitting over there.”

“…Oh,” the moppy headed boy replied.

With a couple of minutes remaining I watched the girl return to class, pick up her backpack, gather her things, and then leave with about a minute of left. Probably best that she didn’t acknowledge me or the elephant in the room—she was a seasoned veteran of the last period, substitute-led hooky.

If only she had known how good of a friend her moppy headed neighbor was.

I’m not sure it’s a much of a secret…

that I’ve taken up running in the past several years. I’ve written about it before in various forms—the inception (intermittently in college in an attempt to do some cardio), studying abroad in Cádiz (running along La Caleta to stay physically active), and then a shared competitiveness between my lifelong friend Danny and I (he ran a marathon so I had to run one, too). Danny stopped the marathon running at two (though he did sign up for the NYC one this year, which I hope he gets because I know that he wishes he doesn’t get in more than he actually wants to run) and I’ve just kept on going. Running has been a constant in my life for a long time now and especially since the pandemic. What was once just another form of physical exercise has now become a vital component of keeping whatever sanity I might possess. Its positive effect on my mental health cannot be understated.

When you’re in the midst…

of training for a marathon, a lot of programs routinely ask that you stay on your feet for 2+ hours or up to 20+ miles during your long runs. The 12/55 program (12 weeks, 55 miles a week max) used to be my go-to, but I've abandoned that one in favor of my own with the hope that I won’t over-train and won’t break-down in the final miles of future marathons— an issue I’ve had in four out of the five I’ve run, unfortunately. Whether in Seattle or Los Angeles, the two other cities I’ve spent the most time in outside of New York, I’ve always been excited to map out engaging and interesting routes for my long runs. Anything not to get bored, right?

In previous stays in Seattle…

I’ve run from Fremont to Bellevue and Mercer Island, to Seward Park and recently to High Point, West Seattle. In the first year of COVID, while I was staying in shape for the proposed 2020 NYC Marathon (which got postponed to the following year), I kept my mind and my legs occupied by running the Seven Hills of Seattle. Over the months I was able to take care of that list and kept on adding to an unofficial list considering that Seattle’s entire terrain is comprised of hills. Seriously, there are a bajillion. In L.A., the runs took me from Hollywood to Downtown or the other way to UCLA or up through the canyons of Runyon, Laurel, and past the Griffith Observatory to places like Dante’s Peak. What better way to see a city and get to know it a little better.

I can’t recall…

exactly when I had the idea to run every subway line in New York, but ever since my friend Jackson and I spent a month in the city during the fall of 2014, I had always taken an interest in the map, which one can find on every subway car. It felt like being given access to a bird’s eye view of the veins of the city. Seeing the way lines stretched from the furthest corners, tracing it the whole way from one borough to the next. Sure, the training I was involved in helped connect the dots, but for a city as big and dense and seemingly untouchable as New York was, I thought this would be the closest I could get to getting to know and understanding the city I had been living in to a higher degree. As a passenger I had been on every line, finding my face gravitating to the windows when I was lucky enough to go above ground, but this was different. Now I’d be able to see the life on the concrete and run along all those swaths of neighborhood that I’d been hidden from below ground.

Instead of starting from the beginning…

let’s jump right into the mission as it currently stands. There are 24 subway lines. Among these lines I include the Staten Island Railway and the Shuttles (from Times Square to Grand Central and from Franklin Ave to Prospect Park). Until May 2025 there is technically a third Shuttle from one side of Rockaway to the next, but more on that later. The mileage of these trains range from around 11 miles (the W train) to 36 miles (A train to Far Rockaway - Mott Ave.). As I write this, I have completed 17 out of the 24 and as recent as yesterday I completed the entirety of the R Train. From here on out the shortest distance is 24.5 miles (A train to Lefferts) and everything after that is close to a full marathon (26.2 miles). I am fully aware of the tall task ahead of me, but I am so excited and so motivated to get out there and do it. I look forward to recapping the other 16 subway lines, but let’s start with yesterday.

The R Train…

runs from Forest Hills, Queens through the bottom third of Manhattan and ends in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. It’s roughly 23.3 miles in total. Going into this Sunday long run I had seen that the climate would be warm, but the weather would be lousy. 100% chance of rain. I just didn’t know how hard the rain was going to be. When I woke up Sunday morning, I received my answer quickly. Hard. Growing up in Seattle I’m used to the rain, but typical Seattle rain is misty and not something that typically derails people from running. (50 percent of my Seattle runs have probably beein in the rain). New York rain can be something else entirely, though. This sounded ugly—pelting the earth outside, without any intention of slowing down and accompanied by an ominous wind that was shaking the trees from side to side. When I tell you that my first seconds awake, observing what awaited me outside—all I wanted to do was turn to the other side of the bed and bury my face in my pillow.

But I didn’t.

I got up on my feet to the welcome sound of new joints greeting me with new cracks and took care of my pre-run snack—a peanut butter banana toast. I, of course, was periodically checking the weather to see if there was any pause in sight, but saw no such thing. In order to get to the starting line of the train, I walked to the 4/5/6 stop on Lexington Ave. and 125th in some Brooks shoes, leggings underneath shorts, and a few layers of dri-fit clothes to keep me warm. The train came quickly and I transferred at 59th and Lex., got out of the station to walk to 63rd and Lex., and transferred to the express F train that would get me to Forest Hills the quickest. There were only four stops: Roosevelt Island, 21st. Queensbridge, Jackson Heights, and, finally, Forest Hills. I could sense the run around the corner, but was a bit sick as I approached the stairs to the exit to see that it was still pouring outside. What was worse, I needed to go to the bathroom. After being denied a public restroom by Starbucks (they really are good for nothing), I found another spot, took care of business, and got to my dynamic stretching. Between the rain and the distance, I was eager to get started. The good news was that I was more or less familiar with the Queens section of the route, having already run along it for the M and E trains. After a deep breath and the firing up of my watch, I was on my way.

When I tell you…

that as soon as I got started, the rain, as if conducted by some sick, sadistic puppeteer started to come down harder and harder. It was as if now I was running to get out of these disastrous conditions as quickly as possible. For the first couple of miles, I was weaving in and out of sidewalks and avoiding the puddles along Queens Blvd and lamenting that I didn’t have an umbrella hovering over me to keep me from getting soaked. It didn’t take me long to realize that even these dri-fit clothes were no match for the constant flow of rain and by the time I made the first turn onto Broadway, I could already feel my clothes becoming waterlogged. Part of me was envious of the hordes of people taking cover underneath buildings, waiting to get on public transportation or, at the very least, waiting for the rain to pass. Had they looked at their weather apps? Were they going to wait until Monday?

Before very long, Broadway was running through Elmhurst and even the rain didn’t stop several families from attending their Asian supermarkets, restaurants, and cafes. They had places to be and so did I. In the past, this part of the route was filled with packed playgrounds and a constant flow of traffic, but the absence of sun had yielded an absence of adolescence. The Jackson Heights / Roosevelt Ave stop, normally a multicultural hub and iconic center for its incredible diversity (immortalized in Fredrick Wiseman’s “In Jackson Heights”), was instead a much less enthralling picture, a cacophonous chorus of honks and swerves as cars and busses tried to get people to their destinations. In any case, it was easier to maneuver the traffic and crosswalks with less obstacles in my way. I surged on.

After Woodside, the Broadway section continued similarly, with the rains increasing in strength and eliminating the parts of the sidewalk that were puddle-free. I flirted in and out of the bike lane and flinched at the idea of Door Dash and Uber Eats bikers being summoned across the city to make deliveries while the other lucky civilians enjoyed the comforts of their homes. I met eyes with Queens locals who asked me silently, “why the fuck are you running in this shit?” They, of course, didn’t say this, but my own inner voice must have projected that onto their quizzical faces as they smiled and smirked in their nice rain jackets and underneath their restaurant overheads. I saw what looked like a group of 20 people at this one juicery called “Juice ‘N’ Beatz.” Were they enjoying a nice smoothie or taking advantage of the extended shelter? There were only a couple more stops I had to pass before I found the familiar Steinway St. and the Blink fitness a little further down, which I used to frequent during one of my brief sublets in the area. This was during an era of elevated craziness when I would run the half mile or so to the gym in the freezing cold, often in shorts. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire borough of Queens assumes I’m a looney.

When Steinway merges into Northern Blvd. it quickly becomes an industrial stretch with nothing very exciting to look at. I could feel the water seeping through my shoes and into my socks. I was wearing gloves, but noticed they were getting heavier and my fingers were turning colder. I squeezed my gloves like you’d singe a wet t-shirt and watched the water leak out in streams. I didn’t even know gloves could hold water like that. It was around this moment, about six miles into the run, when I seriously wondered if I had 17 more miles in me. The rain wasn’t letting up. I had spent the last mile basically hugging the street since the sidewalks had become lakes and the bike lanes had become rivers.

Now, there is a section as you get closer to the Queensborough bridge that serves as a bike/pedestrian pathway called the “Dutch Kills Green.” As I passed Queens Plaza and traversed this makeshift park I arrived at what could only be considered a crossroads. Ahead of me was the biggest puddle I had seen and it stretched from the path I was on to the very beginning of the bridge walkway. I stopped for a moment and tried to tiptoe to the right, but it wasn’t going to work. The water seeped into my shoes and I saw what was to come if I tried to carry on. I looked to the left and saw that there was no opening that the puddle didn’t cover. Is this where the run would come to an end? The only other way out was if I climbed onto the ledge with the cars right next to me, risked falling into traffic, walked carefully along, and then jumped back on the pathway after the puddle. I put my left leg up as high as it could go, slightly surprised I didn’t pull my hamstring or tweak my hip, gathered myself on the ledge, walked carefully for about 15 feet and then hopped back onto the bridge pathway and began to run, once again. Would you believe me if I told you that the moment my feet hit the ground the rains began to subside? Would you believe me if I told you that suddenly the path became clear? I’m not one to read too much into symbolism of it all, but that’s what happened. It was as if I could see the entirety of the bridge and the remainder of the run as clear as day. I knew that that moment was what could have derailed me, but now that the elements were under control, so was the journey ahead.

The Queensborough bridge…

came and went (with a near collision with a biker that thought both lanes were his) and Manhattan shot by like a blur. Something about the streets and the tourists and the traffic always give me a sensation of running through Rainbow Road out of Super Mario 64, especially from the bottom of Central Park through Times Square on 7th Ave. Maybe it’s the lights and the signs and the beautiful chaos, but there is a sense of freedom moving through this section on your feet, avoiding cars and people, skipping from one street to the next, the adrenaline surging through your veins, like you’re the only vehicle in a sea of idling blocks and you get to be the one that can accelerate and blast through. It reminded me of this one moment when I was late for acting class on 8th Ave around Penn Station and the sidewalks were blocked off. The traffic heading in the opposite direction was progressing at a snails pace, so I decided to run through the space between the two lanes of cars, closest to the sidewalk. The rush was insane! I felt like Tom Cruise or Al Pacino with the tunnel vision of making it to class serving as a protective force field that helped me pass through safe. I’m not encouraging anyone to do this, but it is quite the rush.

Once you switch from 7th Ave to Broadway around 42nd it becomes very easy because for a while Broadway becomes something akin to a protected bike lane. You travel past Herald Square, past the Flatiron building, past Union Square all the way down to NYU and then past Soho and it just keeps on going and going until you hit the Financial District and arrive around the Staten Island Ferry at Whitehall Station. The Manhattan section was almost complete and then I looped around and backtracked for about a mile to get to the Brooklyn Bridge, which would take me to the final section. At this point I was 15 miles in with a little over eight miles to go.

Running on the Brooklyn Bridge…

is as exhilarating as it is comical as it is frustrating as it is annoying and, please, let me tell you why. Starting with the obvious; it’s an iconic, gorgeous bridge with wonderful views of Queens, Manhattan, and Brooklyn. We recognize the wiring and the structures from movies and, in that way, it feels like you’re almost running through a movie set. The comical is coupled with the annoying and the frustrating, but maybe that’s partially my doing. In this day and age, this space is fundamentally a photo opportunity for every tourist. What this means is, the bridge becomes an obsctacle course. A runner will find themselves constantly having to weave in and out of group photos, selfies, or, my personal favorite, people pausing in the middle of the walkway. I do get enjoyment out of watching people experience the city and revel in the wonder of such a timeless bridge with their families and loved ones, but 49 percent of me is also like, “Can you also please just move a little bit to the side and stay out of the middle?” I get it—I’m often reminded that runners don’t seem to be given any delegated space, particularly in a city like New York where it feels like every sidewalk and bike lane is packed. Sometimes it can be enjoyable like the aformentioned jaunt through 8th Avenue traffic, but oh the Brooklyn Bridge…what a clusterfuck. This time around I was amused by the two or three people who set their phone against the bridge for what I can only describe as a “candid selfie.” Hey, you can’t say running and specifically running on the Brooklyn Bridge isn’t at least good for some quality people watching.

After enjoying the sights,

I got off the Bridge and hugged the western edge of Cadman Plaza, before passing the Court Street stop on Clinton Ave and then cutting across on Montague and then on to Willoughby where I passed the Jay Street / Metro Tech stop. At this point, all I’m really thinking about is the upcoming section on 4th Ave. and it felt like only a minute that I was making a right to head South on Flatbush, with Barclays Center in the distance, before making the final right and entering the home stretch. The nice thing about the 4th Ave. portion is that its a five mile segment that you get to run during the NYC marathon when you get off of the Verazanno bridge. The only difference was this time I’d be heading the opposite direction and I suppose there wouldn’t be thousands of people cheering me on. I didn’t mind though—my heart pumping, arms slicing, knees driving and feet kicking were all the support I needed. It also didn’t hurt that I had done the majority of this part running the N train back in November on a strangely sunny day. The mindfuck of it all is that you run almost a mile of “name” streets before you get to start the countdown of numbered streets, so it felt like the running gods were cackling, playing some sick joke around the 18 mile marker. I also couldn’t help but daydream (and get slightly depressed) about the best cuban sandwich I’d ever eaten in my life as I passed Carroll St. I say depressed because the owner closed the shop, “My Cuban Spot,” and headed back to Miami during the pandemic. Every person I had ever brought to that place had testified that it was also the best cubano they had ever eaten. These are the things you think about when you’re heading toward the end of your run. There is a longing and a hunger for cuban food, obviously.

Surprisingly,

the last miles didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world, even after I had passed the 20 and 21 mile threshold. I couldn’t help but express my most sincere gratitude to mother nature that the Queens weather had not followed me into Brooklyn. Park Slope became South Slope which turned into Sunset Park, an awesome neighborhood, with large Asian and Latin communities and meanwhile I’m officially in countdown mode. “Only 50 more blocks…only 40 more blocks…only 30 more blocks…” You’d be surprised at how your body starts to kick it into high gear when the you know the end is in sight and after you cross the Gowanus expressway, you notice the stark contrast between the more populated Sunset Park and the much quieter Bay Ridge. Suddenly the sidewalks are devoid of people and, in one way or another, it was just me and the street numbers getting higher, while internally they were getting lower and lower.

With ten blocks…

left I felt my feet working a little harder and my lungs plowing its oxygen. “10, 9 , 8, 7…85th, 86th, 87th, 88th.” When I got to 90th it felt like I was bounding from one sidewalk square to the next and all I could do was smile and rejoice in the near completion of another subway line and another incredible exploration of the incredible city. Then I got to 94th, knowing I had one more block left, got to 95th and said “what the fuck?” because I couldn’t see the station. I went to 96th and 97th and thought there was no way I could have missed it, so turned around, now feeling almost more fatigued as if my body took stock of the miscaluclations and assumed there would be four or five more stops, but praise be, at 95th I looked to the left and saw, practically hidden, the 95th St. station and stopped my smart watch.

If I wasn’t in an unfamiliar neighborhood,

I would have let out a barbaric “YAWP” via Dead Poet’s Society or a “LETS GO” at the top of my lungs, but I settled for a sedated “whew” and let that be OK. I looked at my watch—23.5 miles. Goodness. I could already hear the wisecracks from Danny, “you should have just run the extra 2.7 and done a marathon”, but I knew there were more train lines to come and the subway marathons were on their way. I stopped in a nearby deli and got a couple of bananas and an Essentia water and descended the subway station, knowing I had a long ride ahead and a long hot shower on my mind. After that, I just wanted to be horizontal.

However, as a treat for finishing another line, I did stop at Mitchell’s Soul Food near downtown Brooklyn for a 1/2 fried chicken dinner because…why not?

17 out of 24 complete.

A train to Lefferts next up (24.5), followed by the B train to Brighton Beach (25.5), but probably won’t continue this until after the LA Marathon in mid-March. What a journey this has been

and what a journey it continues to be. I look forward to keeping you updated on the subway lines to come, recapping the ones in the past, and bringing you along for the rest of 2025, “the year of more running.”

Peace and love to all…always.

Sometimes, he admitted,

he romanticized his own wedding—marrying the woman of his dreams, surrounded by the people he loved, in a local setting, simple and direct—putting whatever extra money into a bigger guest list rather than an extravagant destination at the mercy of inclement weather. He could could see those in attendance clearly; his beloved parents, sibling and his dearest friends, their smiling faces, but what he could not see, as his bride was led down the aisle, approaching him in graceful, elegant steps, was her face. A veil behind a veil behind a veil. This was always the moment when his dream seemed to float away.

He had never been granted…

a plus one to any of the weddings he had been invited to, though, in all honesty, that would put the onus on whomever was inviting him. Truthfully, he had never had anyone to bring with him. No prospect, no hopeful, no fiancé or significant other, no rib, no kindred spirit, no life partner or soulmate. For a long time he paid it no mind. If anything, it was convenient, a privilege even, to be a Lone Ranger at a wedding because there might be someone else in similar shoes. A fellow wallflower looking for their special someone. Ah, a romantic fantasy. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. To find “the one” at a wedding.

Several weddings and several years later, that was not the case. If anything, the only +1 was himself.

It started to become…

common practice for the obvious to surge to the forefront of conversation, whether at a wedding or in the every day of life. “What’s going on?” they would ask playfully. “Still haven’t found that special someone?” It didn’t matter who was asking him the question—the answer was always the same. “Nope,” he laughed. “Nobody right now.” Then the natural follow-up, sometimes verbal, sometimes non-verbal. “How old are you?” He had to think for a moment, only a couple of months removed from his previous birthday, and still in processing mode as if writing the date on a piece of paper in February. “33…I think”, he joked. “It’s about that time,” they would say. No, they wouldn’t say this, but he could hear it underneath. Yes, he would tell himself later, when he was alone in his room, head craned to the ceiling. It is about that time.

Time, however,

and his fixed seat as an observer within it, provided quite the insight for how he hoped to proceed one day. Though, on the other hand, maybe time had given him too much space to create an impossible ideal. His role as the sometimes third-wheel, fifth-wheel, or as the eleventh person in a Saturday night group photo gave him endless perspective. He had brothers who he watched discover their person in high school. Others who had gone out with someone since high school, broken up, and within months found the person they would spend the rest of their lives with. Some who had found their chosen one online, via dating apps. He was always the witness to love and he scratched his head at how accessible it all felt or seemed for others. “How do they do it?” Or am I just the unlucky one?

No, he was not the sole “unlucky” one…

—this much he knew. In fact, as the chronically single socialite, he saw that there were others very much like him. Men and women who also hadn’t cracked the code. Dating and dating and dating, but never finding “the one” to settle down with. Upon further inspection, prioritizing themselves, their lifestyles and their careers over companionship with anyone who might get in the way of their routine. Yet, were they as quick to sever ties as he was? Overly critical of every minor move and peculiar idiosyncrasy that ended their candidacy as the potential woman behind the veil. Yes, unfortunately he thought this way sometimes and knew it was a reflection of a deep seated loneliness. How could someone put pressure on him asking who he was dating or seeing or whether there was anyone they were going to be introduced to anytime soon when he had already put so much pressure on himself?

There was something else…

that troubled him. Somewhere in the middle of the singles and the married couples were the ones who almost made it to the promised land and then fell to the wayside like a Jenga Tower, though not always as loud and dramatic. They had almost scaled the top, but couldn’t get past the final rungs of the ladder. He listened to them talk about the “after-life” of their relationships. The half-full outlook of “it was probably for the best” or the unspoken, half-empty position of “I just committed so much of my life…so much time”, “I was hoping she was the one”, “I’m not getting any younger”, and the heaviest, “Now I have to start all over again.” He felt for the ones who were fresh out and hurt for those who were still suffering years later and had yet to recover. He could feel the pain, the sting, and the hopelessness.

Too often,

he would step into the replay arena. He would reflect on his dating life, his exploits, and the women who might have been. He questioned past choices, analyzed moments of self-sabotage, and despaired over the outcome—the same one, as if on a loop, playing over and over and over again. Where did it all go wrong?

To break from the funk he began to replay every wedding he had been to and the highlight video that preceded it. He would think of the bride and groom, how he knew them, how they met, the guests, the food, the decor, the presentation, the speeches, the event, the music and the dancing, and how quickly they would begin and how quickly they would be over. He thought of how honored he was the few times he was asked to be in the wedding, as a groomsman or as a performer. He thought of the bachelor parties, the debauchery, raucous laughter, exploration of previously unknown cities with up to 20 other dudes, defined by long nights and dimmed lights in the wee hours of the morning like yellow brick roads leading them back to their beds.

The more weddings he attended,

the more he realized that a fatigue was setting in.

He was always happy for—

He was always excited to see—

Was it the DJ sets always playing the same songs? Out of sequence? Ignorant of the audience?

Was it that he was always seated at the same table? His name card next to—

Was it the long rides home across the universe, the long walks in his own city—

The sobriety of a second pillow (unused) on a queen bed.

The selection of an old suit.

The dinners that ended before they began. The dinners that ended when they began.

“Fear, for one, please.”

The advice that never ends.

The silences during conversations with your creators.

The veil behind the veil behind the veil behind the veil.

Tomorrow…

I begin a week assignment at a secondary school (high school) within the NYC Department of Education. It’ll be a welcome return, for me at least, to be back in a setting that I have long missed during my time in New York City. I say for me because we all know how we felt as students seeing a new substitute teacher in front of us for the first time. Fresh meat for the slaughtering. I can never sleep very well when I’m getting ready to be in front of a new group of kids. It’s not that I’m scared, per se—it’s just a foreign environment, I suppose. Nobody is immune to the re-acclimation process. Maybe it’s the fact that I have no idea which grade or which subject. Lord help me (and Lord help them) if they ask me to conduct a math or science lesson. I know that everything will be OK, ultimately. (Famous last words, eh?)

The landscape…

within schools has been warped since the pandemic. Granted, this is from a very specific perspective as a substitute teacher. Maybe this is the old-head in me talking, but the environment can feel unsettling, at times. The early part of the pandemic effectively brought laptops along with it. This was a logical move. Without them, how would school have resumed? Yet, this new mode of schooling at home coupled with unmonitored phone use created a monster, simple and plain. I’m no scientist or psychologist, but the pandemic did a number on us, but especially kids that were attending school at that time. It’s not just how visible their addiction is to technology currently, but it’s how it has hacked and mutated their personalities. Ambivalence. Indifference. Sadness. I hope this is not too broad a stroke. There are still kids who evaded this unnatural storm of events, but the highs are high and the lows are low.

It made me wonder…

whether or not this induction of technology into the classroom was an inevitability. I didn’t start to sub until a year into the pandemic, April 2021, when the school I was teaching at had a hybrid of online and in-person learners. I don’t know whether or not kids had laptops at the beginning of 2020. All I know is what I see now and it made me wish deeply that they could have traveled down an alternate road, a different history. I’ll be interested to read the studies to come of how kids at all ages 6-18 (grades K-12) have been affected—socially, mentally, and emotionally.

In the year 2025…

I woke up feeling meh. Maybe I have been projecting my overall dread and malaise onto everything around me. Nowadays, the tall task is rising above the negativity and sensory overload that permeates around us at speeds and rates that dizzy and confuse. I am attempting to declutter, focus, eliminate the distractions, keep my eyes off the screens and away from the socials. I know. We’ve heard this story before. It always sounds good, but broken records stop sounding good after a while, don’t they? All I can do is try though. I can be hard on myself, but if there’s one element of my life that has been teasing me off in the distance, it is the act of writing. It’s been in the oblivion, circling in my brain, but the vultures circling above in the forms of everything you can think of have continued to beat me to my thoughts. I wish for more quiet, more genuine connection, and a reconnection to my subsconscious (word to David Lynch). I’m just trying to catch the Big Fish.

I hope…

this platform can be one of the ways in which I get back into real life. Old habits die hard. I want so badly to write and write often and create. Not just for me, but for everybody. I often ask myself why I like running so much. Well, one of the reasons is that I can think. No phone, no headphones. Just my thoughts. I hope some of these thoughts and upcoming creations resonate with you.

With love,

…always.

P.S.

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