Key to a perfect Seattle summer night? Mariners baseball

A lovely day at the ballpark, a joyous day in the summer.

It started slow.

Waking up burrowed in blankets, the perpetually open window and ever-running box fan bringing a chill to the room that would have been lusted after just a day earlier.

Outside, gray clouds coat the sky and a breeze quakes the brilliant blooms. You tilt your head up and wonder how the region survives months of this - but so much worse. It’s the time of year when collective amnesia hits hardest; we cannot fathom days without the bluest skies, the most idyllic warmth, the brightest sun, and when confronted with their sudden absence we are both baffled and bereft.

You resign yourself to a quiet day. ““It’s cozy,” you tell yourself. “It’s nice to have a little time to slow down and retreat.” But it’s a melancholic acceptance. After toughing it out for most of the morning, your nose is frozen and you can no longer pretend. You traipse through the house and close all the windows with some effort. You shake out the extra blanket and a million dust motes erupt gleefully into the air.

Mid-afternoon and sunshine slices across the grass. You squint suspiciously out the window; our resting skepticism, banished with summer’s spectacle, all too easily resumes. But more time passes and the clouds are lightening, clearing, though some relative cool remains.

The sun gleams as you venture out for an evening stroll. The morning’s breeze feels more like an exhalation now, earthy and warm. Despite the early chill, everything looks just as it was; verdant, vibrant, so richly alive in that uniquely Pacific Northwest summertime way. When there might normally be a fleece blanket of warmth over your shoulders, tonight instead is a gently-draped towel. Puffs of purple, pink and orange begin to flank the horizon, stretching and swirling in streaks across the sky before being subsumed by a velvety indigo. Back home, you re-open the windows, though perhaps just part way this time.

***

It started slow.

An ace in his Silver Age and a big leaguer from the ether faced off on Re-Opening Day for the Seattle Mariners and Houston Astros to re-ignite the season following the All-Star Break.

Outside, a crowd of nearly 42,000 thirsted for a hot start. They instead are offered a rustic stovetop, slow to heat and bane of the cheerily concise timeframe suggested by the online recipe you’ve chosen.While neither Luis Castillo nor Brandon Walter could be named the centerpieces of their pitching staffs, each has been efficient and essential. They coated the strike zone with effective offerings all night in front of a bawdy crowd lusting for runs. Don’t be fooled by the events of the past week - this is T-Mobile Park, and we get Pitcher’s Duels.

We settle in. At T-Mobile Park and across the globe, we pump our fists with Castillo’s smooth frames, and watch with satisfaction as he works unthreatened through the pesky Houston lineup. Jose Altuve strikes out again. And again. And again. It’s what you’d like to see, especially through 6.2 frames from the veteran as he keeps the scoreboard unblemished.

Castillo stands in position to win, blessedly, thanks to the might of Seattle’s last All-Star. Scorching hot like the sun itself, Randy Arozarena homered in the 4th to give the M’s a 1-0 lead they’d never relinquish. In delightful serendipity, like every other member of the All-Star Game’s swing-off, on Friday night, Randy went yard, infusing as ever his own bit of magic into the night. When Mitch Garver clubbed a big fly of his own to dead center, doubling the M’s scoring and setting them up with a 2-0 lead, it seemed surely sufficient, even as Matt Brash was atypically erratic and let the lead shrink to 2-1 through the top of the 8th.

But that uncertain proximity made way for the intimate delight of excellence. In the frame’s latter half, on another night, it’d be Cole Young as the centerpiece, as the precocious youngster added a leadoff walk to a day he’d already singled off a lefty. J.P. Crawford singled in the rookie after a Ben Williamson sac bunt, and suddenly Matilda’s father had less-leveraged company warming in the bullpen. A hard-fought Julio walk against ancient enemy Hector Neris brought to the dish Cal Raleigh, hitless on the night, to chants so loud you’d have thought a summer storm had swept through.

In his first non-exhibition non-homer hit since June, Cal merely delivered a laser RBI single, then a steal of second base for his 11th robbery of the season. The bats delivered in waves now. Arozarena walked intentionally, sacrifice fly from Solano, and suddenly a 6-1 frame sat Andrés Muñoz down and put Eduard Bazardo in charge of a 6-1 lead that the king of low leverage set aside breezily and stresslessly. It was a perfect summer day.