billwixey.com

I am so incredibly blessed.

I am still buzzing over what an amazing thrill it was to throw out the first pitch at Wednesday's Mariner game.  I am humbled and honored.  It was "Strike Out Leukemia and Lymphoma Day" at the Ballpark.  A portion of the tickets sold benefitted the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.  The family had a fantastic time on a picture-perfect afternoon at Safeco Field.

               

I told you it was picture perfect. 

It was a surreal experience.  I have covered hundreds of baseball games, and have been on the field countless times at Safeco Field-- and it never gets old--but this was different.  When we arrived at the ballpark, I took the family onto the field just to see it close up.  The field is a temple, lovingly manicured by an incredibly skilled grounds crew.  The media is forbidden to even set foot on the grass before a ballgame, and here I was, being given license to not only trod upon that lush, green grass, but to actually make footprints on that perfect mound, toe the pitcher's rubber, and throw a pitch. 

A dream come true? You bet.  For a hardcore Mariner fan since the team's inception in '77, it's a pretty big freaking deal. 

Pardon me for a second as I completely geek out.

                                        

First, I was given a jersey that the Mariners had made especially for me, with my name and number on the back.  Why number 33? It goes back to the first number I was ever issued.  In my first year of hockey, at age 6, I played for the Eddie Bauer Mighty Mites.  I was given number 3.  My mom even bought this hand-painted figurine at the time, which I still display on my computer desk.  

                                                  

                                         

Red Wings colors, too.  My favorite team.  There are no such thing as coincidences in this life.  Where did 33 come from?  As I got older, and we were able to order custom-made jerseys and numbers, everybody was getting cool, double-digit numbers, partially inspired by Wayne Gretzky's 99, I believe.  I figured two threes would be even cooler (and luckier) than a single one.  So there you go.  I've been 33 ever since. 

                                                

As I waited in the wings, I saw my name in lights on the big screen, with a big, goofy picture of a dude with a big, goofy head of hair.  That was me. I then heard the booming voice of Mariners public address announcer Tom Hutyler begin to introduce me.  I got chills.  Hutyler has been the Mariners in-house voice since 1987.  It's a voice I've heard introduce every great Mariner in history.  "KEN GRIFFEYYYYY JUUUUUNIOR!!"  To hear my name introduced by that familar voice, to the hometown crowd, was an out-of-body experience.  I hopped the foul line, and made my way toward the mound, and waved to the cheering crowd.  They actually cheered.  I was afraid they wouldn't.  That's why I tried to contact everyone I knew to tell them to come.

As I waited in the green room, I noticed that many of the celebrities who had thrown the first pitch in the past: (Shaun Alexander, Lorenzo Romar,  Marcus Trufant) didn't even step to the rubber on the mound when they threw.  I was determined to throw from the rubber.  Once I stepped on the mound, I paused for a moment.  I realized that in all the time that I had covered Major League Baseball games, I had never stepped on a Major League Mound.  It was pristine.  It was like stepping on a dark brown rubberized track.  I had to paw at it with my toe to verify that it was really dirt.  I stepped on the rubber, and considered digging my foot in, but thought better of that.  I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize Felix Hernandez' performance. 

As I looked in, I noticed that Mariner first baseman Mike Carp was given the thankless duty of catching the ceremonial first pitch.  He was just called up from Triple-A Tacoma the day before, so he drew the short straw.  I wound up, and fired the ball as hard as I could.

 
My arm has been sore for months, ever since I got clobbered playing hockey just as I started chemotherapy.  My low blood cell count makes my body unable to heal itself properly at the moment.  Despite that, I gave it all I had.  My fastball clocked in at 67 miles an hour, according to my old friend Rick Rizzs, who narrated my pitch during the TV telecast.  It was high and outside, but I didn't bounce it there, so I consider that a victory. 

                 
After I threw the pitch, I shook Mike Carp's hand and then handed him a pen to sign the ball for me. 

"Welcome back." I told him, meaning welcome back to the big leagues.  Carp had been called up earlier this year, but didn't stick.  "Make it count", I told him.

The Mariners gave us perfect seats in the third row.  Just like the last time we came to the Mariner game, it was a brilliant pitcher's duel.  Felix Hernandez and Scott Kazmir battled gamely.  It was scoreless through six innings.  My kids were starting to wonder if anybody ever scores at these things.  The last time they were here, they melted down in the 12th inning of a scoreless game, and we had to get them out of there.  It was 19 innings before they actually witnessed a run at Safeco Field this year.  
               
                                          

Fortunately, it was the Mariners who did the scoring. The M's ended up winning it 3-0 (I called it!).  I'd like to say that I combined with Felix Hernandez and David Aardsma on a 4-hit victory.  A perfect finish to a perfect day.


                           
                                                                       

Here's the Q13FOX News story that I put together on the first pitch, the remarkably successful Buhner buzzcut day, and my likeness getting flattened by a steamroller. Yeah, I'd say it's been a pretty interesting week.