George Springer: The Win-Win Dream Breaker
When Dreams Come True (or Almost)
From the moment the MLB playoffs began, I had this written in my mind. It just knew it would become the outcome of my dreams, I felt it. And after the Mariners went up 3 games to 2, I began to put it on paper. Of course, late last night I had to amend it. It’s not easy writing and wiping the tears away at the same time, but such is sport and how the ball bounces, or doesn’t. The chance of this dream matchup happening in the future is not guaranteed; it’s so hard to get to that point each year. But the sentiment remains, so I will put it out as if the outcome of last night's game was different. Once again, this was written before “you know who” hit that homerun. I do know that he will not get a Christmas card from me this year. Haha. And I apologize to the Mariners; I may have jinxed them.
Here goes…
Life rarely hands us a true win-win. Most days, we’re lucky to get a tie, a rain delay, or a call from a friend with some good news. Yet here I sit, a man with two teams in my heart and a lifetime of memories, having to decide who I want to win the World Series, knowing I can’t go wrong. It’s like having to pick between pepperoni or sausage pizza at the party—there is no bad choice; either way, I will walk away satisfied.
My Beautiful Quandary
The Los Angeles Dodgers made my childhood dream come true. They drafted me, developed me, and let me taste the big leagues. That feeling—walking onto the field and eventually seeing my name on a World Series ring and trophy—priceless. Dodger Stadium isn’t just a ballpark for me, it’s a scrapbook of unforgettable stories. Today, it’s the same stadium as the one I once briefly roamed. Even now, my eyes drift to the second base area, where I made the greatest play of my life. The memory is so vivid that it feels like yesterday—a perfect moment, forever replaying in my mind.
But dreams aren’t truly fulfilled until you prove yourself. Enter the Seattle Mariners. My first two stops—LA and Cleveland—were lessons in humility. Validation was elusive. The Indians gave me a large cup of opportunity, but I went and spilled it. Then the Mariners called, and suddenly, I found my stride and carried out enough personal success to create lifetime relief and contentment. Also, priceless! And the memory of my 180th hit off the Hall of Famer, Tom Seaver, in the Kingdome in 1984, feels like it happened today and is as fresh as this morning’s sunrise. Seattle may not have the same stadium, but it holds my vision of being a bona fide big leaguer.
Decision Time
There’s always a soft spot for the underdog (Mariners), but let’s not forget the beauty of sustained excellence (Dodgers). So here I am, happily stuck in the middle. Baseball is best when you don’t have to choose, but if I must choose, I will go with the West Coast team. Ha.
Ultimately, I’ll cheer for both teams, savor every pitch, and hope for seven games—because the only thing worse than losing is the baseball season ending. I’ll be the guy rooting for excellent baseball and for the joy that only baseball can bring. Go Dodgers! Go Mariners! Thank You both! Go Baseball—forever my win-win.
It’s a moot decision now. I will cheer for the Dodgers, but once again, no thanks to that guy, George!
